Dangerous Times
by Fata Lunevis
Summary: Grand Chase meets The Hunger Games! The cruel hand of Serdin forces every district to send tributes to fight for the death in the kill-or-be-killed event known as the Chase Games. Tributes chosen have to give up everything: dreams, hope, and certainly their future. In this desperate time, anyone is willing to gamble anything.
1. Chapter 1

UPDATE: Accepting OCs now officially closed. If you really want your OC to be in this fanfiction, they'll have to either be: 1. A member of the beauty team 2. A Serdin/Capital resident 3. A person in one of the Districts.

NOTE:  
I tried my best to mush together the world of Grand Chase and The Hunger Games. Please bear with me that some of the things will not be the same.

Here's the list for OCs/canon characters/districts, just to help a little bit.

Serdin:  
Beauty Team: Paris (1)

District One – Guard; Elesis, Ronan  
Mentor: Kamilah

District Two- Magic; Arme, Lass  
Mentor: Saika, Brendan

District Three – Highlander; Sieghart, Kieran  
Mentor: Giou

District Four – Elf; Lire, Ryan  
Mentor: Selena

District Five – Creation; Zero, Mari  
Mentor: Acho

District Six – Demon; Ley, Dio  
Mentor: Lucifer

District Seven – Talents; Amy, Jin  
Mentor: Arcana

District Eight – Hunting; Eshe, Rufus, Theo, Shera  
Mentor: Lucas

District Nine – Fighter; Asin, Sion  
Mentor: Kae

District Ten – Holy; Lime, Raphel  
Mentor: Aceline, Aalis

District Eleven – Gods/Religion; Rin, Xion  
Mentor: Michael

District Twelve- ERROR; Jackie, Zeta  
Mentor:Roseclere  
Others: Fiora

OC List: ((Last names (if any) will be revealed later in the fic))

Roseclere/Acho/Eshe/Arcana = Fata Lunevis

Saika/Aceline = Eclipsa Syreni

Xion = shinedown

Fiora = Meranii kirai

Jackie = Snowskeeper

Kamilah/Lucas/Raphel/Lucifer/Michael/Giou/Aalis/Kae = Puriyo

Sion/Zeta/Selena = omnious

Kieran = WinterBarrows

Theo/Shera = The Veteran Prince

Paris = i x3 Eggplants

Brendan = OneLukeTwoHonestyThreeIsaiah 


	2. Arme

_Hello thars! Fata Lunevis at your service. So, today, I finally got enough characters to start the Grand Chase/Hunger Games crossover! Much thanks to Puriyo for her overwhelming supply of characters.  
How this works is that I will have a chapter with each a different character's POV. I find that using that way, I can have each of the characters have equal screentime, or storytime, so that no one will complain about someone being the main character while someone else hardly gets any lines.  
Though, that means that the number of chapters this story will have will be ridiculous. I have all the tributes and mentors and some extras to introduce! So, I ask that you bear with me, because I will try my very best to get my handwritten drafts finished and typed up as soon as possible, but for those who have known me for a long time, I'm a pretty slow updater. Apologizes in advance.  
So, without taking any more of your time, I present chapter one of Dangerous Times._

* * *

Chapter One- Arme

She wakes suddenly, clutching the woven, soft wool blanket beside her, rumpled into twists by her thrashing through the previous night. Panting slightly and staring at the brown, checked pattern of her pillowcase, she closes lavender purple eyes as fragments of the dream echo around, playing pinball in her head. As her head begins to clear up, she gets up, shaking limp, scattered purple hair out of her face. She turns to the right to find a sparkling purple dress with laced sleeves, folded neatly and covered in dust from being kept in a cupboard for almost all of a year. The dress sat neatly in the wooden chair, replacing her normal, dull mage outfit. Her heart sunk as she felt the fabric. Velvet. There was no denying it, today was the day.

The girl smiles, remembering how the dress used to seem so small on her frame when she was twelve or so. As she pulled it over her head gently, she heard a small rip. Right. The dress was too tight for her, a girl of fifteen and growing. In two years or so, she'd somehow have to come up with the money to buy a new dress.

If she survived two years. The odds had always been fairly decent to her and she'd managed to avoid being chosen at the Reaping for three whole years, but one never knew when the odds would be in their favour and when not.

Today was the day of the Reaping, a day that occurred once a year, in which two tributes were sent to the biggest city, the capital, also known as Serdin, to be treated as guests and drowned in food, drink and training for a month or so.

However, there was a catch. The Reaping wasn't some nice little festival hosted to invite teenagers to spend time at Serdin. After the month is over, the tributes—twenty-four for the twelve districts—are dropped in the middle of a wild arena filled with dangers no one dared to guess. In the arena, anything and everything was expected. Hummingbirds with fencing swords for beaks, acid rain that melts you from the inside…All dangerous no one would even think of, things seen only in horror movies.

There, they have to fight to the death, kids killing kids, until one supreme stands alone, cloaked in the blood of his friends, his comrades, his allies, his enemies. That person would be crowned victor and given a life of luxury, offered money, food and drink. Every year, those victors would have to make the trip to Serdin again, to coach new tributes, then to watch their students die, one by one, then pick up the broken pieces of their hard work and do it again, year after year.

It was a cruel matter, forced upon one by Serdin, to remind each district that it and only it ruled above all others, and a rebellion would never be tolerated.

The girl finished dressing and headed downstairs, soft footsteps alerting her parents that she was awake. She smiles to find them standing next to the table with mournful smiles, staring at her. She greeted them, inclining her head to slow respect.

"Good morning, Mother, Father."

"Good morning, Arme dear." Her mother greets her back, eyes shiny with tears. Her father remained silent, looking at Arme with his blue eyes, stroking his chin. She stands there for a while, letting her parents memorize every little bit of their daughter, just in case, just in case.

Finally, her father snaps out of it and smiles at Arme, forcing himself to look cheerful for her.

"Come, Arme, eat. You have a long day ahead of you." He gestures to the plate of pancakes, eggs and tomatoes, a breakfast normally unseen in the district of Magic, District Two. Though Arme's family was considered well-off, a meal like this was only fit for the people in Serdin. And even though the district worked with magic, using magic for their own needs, such as summoning food and drink, was forbidden and punishable by death, depending on what and how something was summoned. The Peacekeepers there had no pity or words to spare to any of the citizens.

Arme sat down and began eating, savouring every little bit. Her parents watched her, whispering to each other and attempted to calm their frayed nerves. Arme looks up from her eating, and is surprised to see silent tears streaming down her mother's face.

"Mother," she says, concerned. "What's wrong?" Arme asked, setting down her fork and looking at her father, who wrapped his arms around her mother and motioned for Arme to be silent. The purple haired girl did not know what to do, and just stood there, feeling helpless.

Soon, the time of the Reaping arrived. Arme got up, quietly slipped from the table as not to disturb her already upset mother. Her father notices her action and raises a hand in farewell, eyes brimming with emotions and worries about how she might not return, or that she could be chosen.

Arme headed towards the Reaping arena, blending in with the crowd of fifteen-year old girls. All eyes were fixed ahead, no greetings exchanged nor signs that they even knew each other.

District 2 was a wonderful place, one that looked like it jumped right from a child's storybook, if children were lucky enough to get books nowadays. White buildings with large arcs framed by vines of elegant purple roses stood side by side, as people watched the teenagers mill by, some preferring to look away, others offering small prayers and their hopes.

The Reaping area was a wide, open space on the outskirts of town, surrounded by a magical barrier. A large, white, slanted platform with vine-encrusted stairs lead up to a glowing fountain and a small stand complete with a mic. It stood in the middle, so that people could crowd all around it, and cran their necks to get a look at the announcer and tributes.

People filled in all around, in their gender and age groups, to wait for the ceremony to begin. Arme bit her lip nervously, drawing a small speck of blood as tension filled the air. It was broken by the sudden teleportation of the train from Serdin arriving in the landing spot, and as peacekeepers marched off. The announcer, dressed outrageous purple-blue clothing, hopped off, her strict face wrinkled by the sight of all the children waiting, looking like they were going to their death. And in a way, they were. Or, atleast, two of them.

She makes her way up to the stand, heels clacking and grumbles heard as she 'fights' her way through the grasses and mosses that settled in over ages of use. She had two peacekeepers behind her, each of them carrying a small round glass ball that held everyone's names, separated evenly between them. They set the glasses onto the fountain, held up by the strong water. The announcer pressed the mic to her shining red lips, muttered a few words about how amazing and strong their magic felt, and began speaking.

"Well, well! Look at this! Happy Chase Games, everyone! Why don't we give a smile and a giggle for this lovely sport?" She gave an obviously forced smile, attempt to lighten the mood failed.

The Chase Games. A cruel name, really, to express the 'game' that all the tributes were expected to play, a game of chasing each other down and killing. There was nothing to smile about the event, unless one lived in Serdin where they took it as some sort of sport, a game to look forward to every year, to celebrate and giggle themselves silly over the death of one tribute and the victory of another.

"Well! Are you ready to pick the tributes? Better now than never, I always say!" She gets straight to the point, long white fingers reaching towards the first box. She sweeps around for a bit before reaching one piece of paper, and taking it out, pinched between long, forest-green nails. Everyone held their breath as she unfolds it and waits a few seconds before reading the name.

"Arme Glenstid!"

For a second, there's confusion. Who? Then they remember. Arme, the short, purple mage that did her duties faithfully every day, then returned home, never one to stick around much or be open to gossip, much less chatter at all. The crowd parts as a peacekeeper helps the startled young lady onto the stage, next to the smiling announcer, who wrapped her long, claw-like nails around Arme's shoulders a little too tightly.

"You lucky thing! No one else wants to volunteer for a try?"

Her words were met with silence, as all eyes focused on Arme and some even dared to mouth words of good luck and hopes.

"Hmm…Well, then, Arme, I guess the honour of district two rests in your hands!" She giggled and gave the mic to Arme, who laughed nervously and appeared close to fainting. The poor girl couldn't take in what was happening, it all moved too fast.

Suddenly, there were a few shouts at the barrier of the area. Arme turned to see her mother, eyes wild, still in her sleeping gown dotted with small yellow daisies, attempting to break the barrier. She was screaming, reaching out for Arme, but no, there was no way mother and daughter could be together, they would have to wait for their final good-byes to hold each other in their arms.

Arme began to feel tears form in her own eyes, and bit her lip. _No! _She would not be caught crying. That would cause a big stir when this Reaping—that was being recorded and maybe even broadcasted live—hit television. She'd be marked as weak and picked as one of the first victims. No doubt the camera was focusing on her with this sudden outbreak of emotion from her mother. She could see the people of Serdin, sitting in silk covered chairs; painted mouths open wide at this unexpected turn of events.

However, she was snapped from her thoughts as she saw the peacekeepers restrain her mother. Wait. Something wasn't right. They weren't leading her away like they should be. Instead, they'd forced the crying and begging woman on her knees and—

Oh God. No. She sees her father running from the other side of the street. But no, he's too slow, he wouldn't reach her in time—

"No!" The cry escapes her throat as she's held back by a frowning announcer, whose sharp nails dig into her shoulder.

The sound of a shot echoes around the clearing as Arme falls to her knees, thoughts of bravely forgotten. She's dragged up again by the announcer, whose words she can barely hear through the sound of the gunshot ringing in her ears, the sudden gasp of the horrified crowd, the spatter of blood revealing the invisible barrier.

"Tsk tsk, they didn't have to shoot someone, it makes a mess on the floor…Oh, Arme honey, how do you feel about all of this?" A microphone is jammed in her mouth and it's all she can do not to break down into pieces on the floor and just scream, scream for everything and everyone and the fact she was heading towards her doom to be thrown into a pit to fight like mindless insects, with her father to watch. She wouldn't even be there to comfort him over the loss of his wife, her mother.

No one had actually been killed at a Reaping before, and the crowd was frantic, worrying more for themselves and their family rather than the current feelings and mental state of Arme, silently freaking out onstage as the microphone is pressed more to her lips and the announcer tells her to answer through gritted teeth.

Arme barely remembers what happens next. She answers questions numbly, and soon is told to stand off to the side as they pick the next tribute.

Lass Isolet.

* * *

_ Yes, yes, I'm aware that Lass isn't supposed to belong in the Magic District, but there's a reason, I promise. 8D _

_Dun dun dun. Arme's mother is killed. There's a reason for this as well. _

_I guess I'm just making random excuses not to get flamed. :mings: _

_Anyways, R&R would be loved. Reviews feed authors. They're like, soul food something or other._

_Until next time, then._


	3. Lass

_…Wow, I did not expect to be updating this fast. XD I guess I was just excited from all the reviews? Five in a day, holy. Might not seem like much, but to me, really, it is. Just wanted to thank each and every reviewer for sparing a little bit of their time._

_Anyways, I've decided that, rather spam all the people who review's inbox, I'd just answer reviews with each new chapter update. Yes, I'm aware that this sort of thing annoys some people, but, hey, you can always just skip them. Scroll down to the real chapter. No harm, right? _

_ So here we go, with the first batch of answers! Thanks to everyone that reviews! Lunevis appreciates each and every one of her amazing readers._

_ Arme535: Haha, thank you! As you can probably see if you're reading this, it has started. Late reply is late, but oh well. Thanks again for the review and compliment!_

_ Snowskeeper: Orly? Lol, thank you._

_ Allissa: Oh, there will be ArmeXLass. I intend to have every couple that exists and people ship, even some OCXOC or OCXcanon. That way, everyone is happy! And even if you hate, those pairings probably will not have a happy ending, so no worries. =A="" _

_ WinterBarrows: Hush hush, you're making me blush. That was the first review I saw when I got back from school and I was all "Pshaw, please". Thank you!_

_ Eclipsa Syreni: ((salkghaoshgoagd. Your new (or not so new) penname is still hard to type, Senyuri.)) It's bad-/srapped_

_ The Veteran Prince: Haha, thank you very much! ^_^ Your icon…is that Raven I see? 8D. And no, it's alright, your English is fine indeed._

_ Ah, well that's done. Wow this was longer than I expected. I seem to be getting shocked a lot today._

_ Anyways, onto the real chapter._

* * *

Chapter Two: Lass

"Lass Isolet."

In a matter of seconds, he went from smirking in his little, shadowed corner at the Arme girl who had been chosen, to a shocked expression on his fine features as peacekeepers grab him and lead him towards the platform.

No way.

They hoist him onto the platform where a smiling announcer grips his arm a little too tightly before he can make a run for it.

Meh, whatever. It wasn't like he could make it far. The barrier would fry him the instant he tried to headbutt through it. Despite being born into the District of Magic, Lass had spent most of his childhood trying to find money and food to survive, being busy with those everyday tasks of taking care of his basic needs rather than attending a school of magic. Plus, magic took a long time to prepare and could be weakened greatly if one small thing went wrong. Better to have a dagger in his hand and a glint in his eye rather than taking his chances and waving a stick around the air in ballet motions.

He stands next to the other tribute, Arme, the girl that just saw her mother shot. Huh, if she was broken by that, he figured she'd be killed right away in the arena. Heck, he'd probably even go for her himself. Get some sponsors for a well-placed, bloody kill.

Like anyone in their right might would sponsor an orphan that everyone abandoned, including his own parents.

"So, Lass, tell me about you." The announcer was saying, glancing between him and Arme as if she expected them to either leap and strangle each other right there and then, or shuffle together for a pity party.

The very thought made him sick. If he was going to be sent off to die, he'd prefer to _not _know the name of the people he was aiming to murder.

"I'm a boy. Thirteen. Living on the streets." He causally adverted his glaze from the staring crowd. They knew him. Everyone knew him. He was that silver-haired hobo, the trouble-maker with a bounty that had, at one point, held every one of the villagers at daggerpoint and demanded their money and food. Many stomachs had gone hungry because of him, and he was fully aware that it would bring nothing but great joy for the people to watch him brutally slaughtered on live T.V.

Even his own district abandoned him.

"Oh? And why must you slave away on the streets pitifully weeping away for a bite to eat, when you are but a small, innocent boy of just thirteen years?" The announcer waves her free arm into the air, and Lass could almost hear the pitying sighs of the people of Serdin, sitting peacefully as they fawn over a small boy with such a cruel fate. He could bet they'd forget about him tomorrow, when the new 'cool' thing came out.

He looked at the announcer who was expectantly staring at him, mouth poised to start a chain of weeping for his 'tragic destiny'. Well, if she wanted to sugarcoat it, it wasn't up to Lass to break all their fantasies.

"I have no parents. They abandoned me." He mumbles, half hoping that the microphone didn't catch his words.

"Oh, you poor, _poor _darling!" As expected, the announcer opens her shiny red mouth in a wail that could reach the heavens, and she clutches Lass's arm and sobs, trying to regain herself, and it's all Lass can do to restrain himself from stabbing her in the eyes or something. He can feel Arme's eyes burning into his back, and he's aware that she should be the one receiving the pity, not him. But he pushes that thought into the back of his mind as he reminds himself that this scene would probably touch the soft heart of some random sponsor and he could survive more than two days or something.

After the announcer calms herself and checks her eye make-up—which, by the way, Lass had no idea was _make-up,_ he thought she surgically implanted the sparkles around her eyebrows for some strange Serdin fashion. She gives Lass a soft pat on the cheek, muttering what a sweet little boy he is, but before Lass can reach to pull out his daggers to handicap her for life, she grabbed both the tributes' hands and forced them into a handshake. Their fingers slid awkwardly into each other, and the touch just didn't feel quite natural. Lass had the sudden impulse to pull away and the shake broke off very quickly, to the disappointment of one glaring announcer.

Arme attempted a small smile, but was quickly crushed by Lass's stony glare. There was no need to show kindness. Though they had to work as friends for the first month, once they entered the arena, it would all be different.

Before she could abandon him, he'd abandon her.

_xxDangerous Timesxxx_

in the busy rush hour of Serdin, a figure wrapped in an elegant silk chiffon picks up a black, cordless phone with her freshly painted nails. She had just finished watching the District Two Reaping and had some business to attend to. Dialing a number, it wasn't long before she was put through.

"Chase Games headquarters, may the odds be with you. How may we help? We offer free profiles of those selected in recent reap—"

"I want to sponsor a tribute."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Must I repeat myself?"

"But ma'am, the Reapings are not fully completed. Only one and two have been selected—"

"I want to sponsor a tribute." Her voice remains calm and precise, as if she did not hear the assistant's words.

There's a slight pause, shuffling of papers, and a sigh before the unnerved man speaks again.

"Very well. May I know your name and the tribute you wish to sponsor, miss? All funds will be credited to your bank account."

"Lass Isolet."

The quiet scratching of writing.

"Your name, miss?"

She smiles, ruby fingers playing with the hem of her dark grey robe.

"Place it under Kaze'aze." Her voice echoes around the soft, ominous room.

"Lady Kaze'aze."

* * *

_Ohhh, Kaze'aze makes an appearance. Too bad you don't see much of her until the games actually begin. Bad cliffhanger is bad. O u O_

_ Anyways, I guess that's all. The next chapter will take a skip back in time and feature District One, Guard, and Elesis/Ronan. _

_Until next time, then._


	4. Elesis

_((EDIT: Okay, killed the format of the original chapter, so I had to submit another one. That might be why everything suddenly changed a little bit. )) _

_Yey, another update. 8D _

_Just saying beforehand, I`m not too fond of this chapter. I kinda feel that I didn't express it well enough, and since I wrote it at around 2:00 AM in the morning, I definitely wasn't at my best. /: Oh well. Not to offend Elesis fans or anything, but I'm looking forward to making the Ronan chapter much more than the Elesis one. Way more action than Elesis' 8D. _

_Shoutout to all the Elsword fans out there with Elesis' brother. ^^_

_Oh, and regarding the song that Elsword sings, I will reveal the full song and name later on in the series because, once the whole interview and games start there will be some music and singing. But, if anyone could guess the name of the song he sings, you will instantly become my online BFF. 8D_

_Review replies~_

_Lulu J: Thank you! I will._

_Allissa: Thank you very much! I will try to update ASAP. Reviews always help ;D_

_Sirenys: (I see you changed your penname. ;w; I like the old pen, tbh ;w;) Lol what pro please—_

_The Veteran Prince: Oh, really? I actually prefer Raven in Blade Master, though xD;; And, really? Here in Canada, Elsword has been out for a while now, and the advertisements are everywhere. xD  
Thank you, really. Oh? Did you enjoy it? I watched the Hunger Games a while back and I have to say, I loved it, very, very much.  
Well, technically, everything has a gender, (except for maybe a lamp or something. But even lamps have gender if you're French. No offense. No one got that small attempt at the joke? :okay: ) and so, if Kaze'aze is a female monster, she'd be called a 'her' rather than a 'it'. 'It' is used more for inanimate objects and organisms where the gender is not released. _

_WinterBarrows: Oh gosh xD No, no. It's just my inspired little author inside that wants to update this story more than anything because of all the lovely praise I get. xD Also, Puriyo and Sirenys nagging at me over Facebook helps me update as well. xD;;  
Thank you very much! I was actually worried that I was making the characters OOC, so that puts my mind at ease._

* * *

Chapter Three- Elesis

The sound of a door creaking open on rusty hinges can be heard as two figures walk into the spacious room, checking up on things.

"Sis, where's the milk?" A boy that couldn't of been more than twelve with blazing red hair asks his sister, a girl with the same crimson hair that sat in a chair next to the dining table, polishing a large, wide sword. The girl stops her actions, looking at her younger brother.

"It should be on the left. I bought some on Friday." She replies, frowning slightly at the red haired male's carefree tone, wondering if he forgot what day it was tomorrow, or was simply putting it to the back of his mind to worry about and fret when he was alone.

That thought made the girl frown and nearly drop her sword. No, he was her brother. They would always be together, and would share all happiness, fears, and scares together. There was no reason he wouldn't tell her anything.

"Elesis, I found the milk!" The boy laughed as he held up a medium-sized carton with a picture of a dairy cow stamped onto it, and the words "MILK" and "ONE" in bright red at the bottom.

Elesis nodded and smiled, distracted, at him. The boy failed to notice anything wrong and settled down to gulp a glass of fresh milk.

Truth be told, there were a lot of things pressing on the young swordsman's mind. Her recent job promotion, for one. Though it offered money and status, the knight found it difficult to withstand the piercing glances of her so-called 'teammates'. So what if she was young? She'd trained hard and fought her way up the ranks, and now she deserved to be called Elesis, the Leader of the Ruby Knights., special knights that were trained to keep peace in both Serdin and the districts. A better—and more used—name was 'peacekeeper', but Elesis refused to acknowledge the fact the people she trained under her hand were hated across the districts for their duties and actions.

She sighed and put her sword back into its sheath, hanging at her waist for quick release should she need it. Maybe she should have chosen an easier job. Being in District One, District of Guards, she could easily get a job as the guardian of Serdin and its Queen or something. That would mean riches, fame, and the favour of Serdin nobles. She wondered and shared a smile at the thought of marching into headquarters and kicking the current 'Guardian of Serdin', a young man by the name of Ronan Eurdon, right outta there. He was nothing but a long haired sissy that had somehow won titles and the hearts of many using his 'polite manners' and 'twinkling eyes'. Elesis scoffed. In a battlefield, that was the kind of thing that got one killed. Obviously, Ronan didn't know that. There were rumors that he had rich parents and had abused his status to get such a high ranking, and Elesis believed in them faithfully, preaching and destroying Ronan's popularity whenever his name appeared in conversation.

She had once thought her hatred of Ronan was what made her so unpopular with the rest of the Ruby Knights, who all idolized Ronan and hoped to bare his babies or something. She, personally, hoped his babies died from smallpox. But no, they couldn't hate her for a matter as trivial as that, unless they were obsessed with the long haired guard or something.

Finally, after she escaped from the tangled web her thoughts led her into, she glanced at her brother, the small, red-haired boy sitting on the stool with a mischievous, small grin on his pointed, elf-like features.

"What?" Elesis asked the boy, wary of his sudden sly smirk.

The boy hopped off the stool and skipped over to Elesis, all the while keeping the big, wide-eyed, innocent stare and little smile. He stood close to her, blinking, not saying a word.

"What?" She repeated, raising an eyebrow.

His eyes wandered to the sword's hilt, hanging from a specially modelled leather belt with her official Ruby Knight badge on it. Elesis noticed his glaze shift from her to the sword and immediately placed a hand over it, blocking his view from the attracting red of the forged sword, created for her personal use.

"Don't even think of asking. Until you become of age, I am _not _going to even let you near a sword, much less hold one. And you will never, ever, use a actual sword until your twenty, young man!"

The boy crosses his arms and huffs, looking at Elesis with a frustrated look on his face, one that showed he'd tried the trick before but never succeeded.

"Why not?" He asked, raising his voice to a high-pitched, whimpering tone that he knows fully well his sister can't stand.

Sure enough, Elesis groans in annoyance and moves to cover his mouth.

"We've went over this many times, Elsword. You'll get hurt! Wait until you're thirteen and you actually start training. It's not as easy as it looks, and you could damage something permanently." Elesis shook her head. "It's too dangerous for you right now."

Elsword stomped his food with the impression of a spoiled little child. "But Dad taught you!" He whined.

"Yes, but that was different." Elesis replied back without even taking a second to think. IT was clear they had this exact conversation many, many times.

"Just wait until next year." She said, leaning back into the chair with her eyes closed, a sign that their brief talk was over.  
"If I survive next year," he muttered, glancing at Elesis to see if she'd heard.

The female knight opened her ruby eyes, blurred with a mixture of emotions: anger, forgiveness, and even maybe fear.

"What are you talking about?" It was clear she was fighting to keep her voice steady, to keep sounding like she was bored and wondering what to have for dinner.

"You know. Reaping." The boy dared to answer back, voice shaking slightly.

Elesis shook her head, hair coming loose from its twisted updo to scatter around her shoulders. Elsword didn't understand how close he was dancing to that thin line, tempting the Fates and daring to ask for a challenge.

"You're young. Your name is only entered once. There's no way you'll be picked. Don't worry." She said, looking the other way so he wouldn't see her eyes. She'd never been good at reading peoples' body language or eyes, but who knew about others reading her? She'd heard one too many times she was as open as a book and just as easy to read.

"I'm not," Came the stiff reply.

Elesis turned, surprised to come face-to-face with a slightly sniffing Elsword. She gently patted the boy's hand, smiling.

"Good." She brushed the boy's forehead. "Cause you'll grow up to be a strong warrior just like Dad, and strong warriors don't let little things bother them. Now run along now, if you really want to dream of using a sword, start practising with twigs first."

Elsword nodded, and skipped off happily, singing a small song he heard somewhere.

_I will ride_

_I will fly_

_Chase the wind_

_And touch the sky_

Elesis smiled, momentarily content. However, it wasn't long before her worries began to cloud her mind again. Elsword was safe, but what about her? Her name was entered in as well, and the chances of her getting picked were much larger than Elsword's. What would happen if she died and he was left alone? They had no parents—there had been an accident involving firearms from District Eight, Hunting. And though the district paid greatly and apologized, nothing could bring them back. No relatives, either. Elesis had raised Elsword all on her own, and it had been no easy feat. She had to admit she spoiled him a little, spoiled and protected him. So how was he to survive shall she be picked?

For once, Elesis could not offer an answer. She hated not being able to control her fate, she hated having to rely on some preppy announcer to either pick or dodge the slip of paper with her name on it.

Oh well. There was nothing to be done. She got up and started preparing breakfast, heart sinking lower and lower as each minute ticked by, getting closer and closer to the day of the Reapings, in District One, Guard.

_xxDangerous Timesxx_

"You look perfect." Elesis finished buttoning up Elsword's white dress shirt, and gave him a small pat on the cheek. The boy didn't say anything, instead preferring to gulp nervously and stare into Elesis with big, scared eyes.

"Don't worry," She says, suddenly feeling a large lump harden at the back of the throat. She swallowed bitterly and spoke again, eyes soft. "After the Reaping's finished, I'll take you to get some fresh cheese. Does that sound good?"

He nods, eyes still nervous.

Elesis continues talking; knowing the boy felt assured if she spoke like it was any other day. She faintly remembered her own first Reaping, in which she had to get up and put on a dress, fingers shaking too much to button it properly. People had laughed at her for having mismatched buttons, but she held her head high and eyes to the announcer, making sure to keep her tears in check. Later, she'd gotten angry and made sure the guys who'd laughed paid for it. She suddenly remembered how Elsword had held onto her skirt in the past few years, begging her not to go, begging her to stay home, that they could hide her and pretend she was deadly ill or something. As much as she had wanted to agree, she stuck to her honour and went. There was no way she'd let peacekeepers march in and get Elsword into trouble for hiding her sister. She was the protector, not him.

"When we get there, go off to the twelve-year-old section. I'll be in the fifteen-year-old girls, naturally. After, meet me at the winged fountain, alright?"

He nodded, hands beginning to get sweaty. He quickly rubbed his palms on his clean white pants. Elesis nodded and frowned, swatting his hand away.

"Don't do that. You'll ruin your pants. Now, don't worry. Eyes high and keep walking forward. Strong as the seas are stormy, and proud like an eagle's scream, remember?" She smiled, and this time he managed a small, flickering half smile.

They opened the door together, and he clung to her hand as they blended in with the rest of the children. Some Ruby Knights exchanged greetings with Elesis; a comment about the weather, the next mission, new recruits. It was like they weren't even afraid.

Elsword stared straight ahead, and when they reached the Reaping area—a large, empty place in the middle of the town, with a statue of a winged figure holding a sword and clad in gold armour with a large, golden helmet—he clung to her hand for a moment longer than necessary, but finally separated to join their age groups.

The Reaping began as the announcer tepeorted into the middle of the square. Ronan walked up to greet her with a bow, a kiss on her hand, and a humble welcome to the district. The announcer giggled herself silly—much to Elesis' disgust—and started to hiccup—by this point, Elesis had given up on girls and was wishing she could belong to the male gender—and finally calmed herself with a sigh and a comment on Ronan.

She then began to ramble on and on about how much of an honor it was to be there, and choose the tribute for the yearly Chase Games, all the while making eyes at Ronan, who smiled politely back. Elesis preferred to stare at the statue, not with all the other girls, who seemed to be fighting for Ronan's attention. As she stared at the statue, she wondered what lay beneath the solid helmet. She then thought about how much of a joy it would be if Ronan would wear a huge helmet like that one, so she wouldn't have to see his face all the time. And maybe he could choke under the stiffed heat of the sun combined with the tight gold of the helmet.

She was so busy in her thoughts that she failed to notice the announcer wander to the first glass ball, holding the names of the first batch of tributes.

She didn't notice the shuffling of papers, and the gasp as everyone held their breath and prayed to ancient Gods that they would be spared another year.

She didn't hear anything until a smiling announcer momentarily took her attention off Ronan to read the name on the paper before her. She clawed open the paper using long blue nails, and muttered the name into the large, mounted microphone at her side.

"Elsword Sieghart!"

And there's barely time to snap out of her thoughts and realize what's happening before she sees the peacekeepers drag him onstage. She watches, numb, as the announcer tries to strike conversation with the scared young body in front of her, who's desperately searching the crowd in front of him for his older sister, who had promised him they'd be alright, that they'd celebrate after, that they'd always be together no matter what.

"So, Elsword Sieghart, hm?"

"Yes." His voice was grim, quite unlike the frantic expression on his face, unable to locate Elesis in the crowd of heads, some whispering words of luck, some shaking their heads at the young boy's unfortunate fate, and some preferring to look down so he won't see the relief in their eyes.

No. Elesis stands there, looking at her brother, standing up there, and thoughts clash together in her head. Why's he up there? No, he couldn't be picked. He can't be picked. They needed to be together. Why would that promise break apart? No, no, _no. _She won't allow this. How could anyone allow this? Her hand flies to her right side, fingers grasping air instead of the sword that was usually there. Oh, right, she'd taken her sword off the belt and only worn the simple leather belt and a light blue dress. No, why did she do that? Why didn't she think Elsword still had a chance of getting picked, however small. For a second, she can't think straight. Elsword's up there. Why is he up there? He shouldn't be up there. He can't be up there.

_I can't allow him to be up there._

"Exotic name, hm? Did your mother have a fetish, honey?" The conversation continues, and Elesis wonders why she can't do anything, why she has to stand here and watch as her brother gives up on searching for her and heads off to Serdin to die.

"I don't know. I never knew her."

"You poor thing! Who raised you, then?"

"Me." Elesis acts without thinking, pushing her way forward to stand, glaring at the announcer. She can see peacekeepers coming to force her back into the line, but no, she'd fight them. She'd create enough time for Elsword to get away. She knew this wasn't a good idea, it would never work, but she just needed to do something to feel useful, to feel that she had control over something, to feel that she could save him.

At the sound of her voice, Elsword turns around, and for that brief moment that their eyes meet, she can see the pain, the fright in his eyes, and it's really too much for her bare. She can feel the tears streaming down now, no, no, _no, _she can't let him head off to a fight to the death. She can't sit at home in agony watching him get slaughtered on T.V. And in that small lapse of time where she actually gets to think, she understands what needs to be done. She remembers something done so long ago, most people have forgotten. She knows that all along, she'd been playing in the Fates' hands, and now it was nothing more than to prove to her that she had no control over what direction her future went in, no control over when she died.

"I volunteer!"

The two words, ringing in the air as she pushes the peacekeepers away from her being and shoves Elsword right off the center of the stage. Everything is turned her way, the heads of the citizens, the dark eye of the camera, the announcer's wide pink mouth, and even Elsword's wide red eyes, fixing on hers as emotions flash through.

She could never read people, but in that moment they were connected, not one person but not two either, something in between that no science could ever hope to explain. She saw his momentarily relief, to be replaced by horror, then anger, then reject, and finally, sadness. It hurt her heart to see the look in his eyes, the look that blamed himself and his rotten luck for the turn of events.

She, however, does not feel anything. There is no surprise, no reject, no depression. Nothing. It is almost like she was in the time of day where it was not like but not morning, a time when they sky was a dull grey, and yet as the grey reflected across strewn bedsheets, an unbreakable sense of peace settles, of understanding, of memories lost long ago and wisdom.

As she turns to the announcer, mouth set and tears dried, and as Elsword passes by her, the two are suddenly reverse. There is the boy, heading down from death, and the soldier, that gave up her dreams and future for the boy she raised as a son, her brother, the one person she had a bond with that she need not explain, she need not control, for it was something natural and something that existed across destinies, and perhaps, was stronger than the Fates' themselves. For Elesis was ready. There was no tears, no regrets. She was ready to head into the arena. She was prepared to fight, to live as long as she could, to show Elsword she was content with her destiny and that she would go down as a rebel. She'd show the cruel hand of fate that no, she was in control, she was controlled as soon as she'd volunteered, and that she'd die as a warrior, as something who fought to break the chains of destiny and perhaps, rebel against the plans of something higher above and win.

* * *

_…Derp. Okay, did I just turn Elesis into some super spirit obsessed control freak? _

_Ugh. I apologize. ;w; I don't have siblings so I have no idea what the bond with your sisters/brothers are like. I just used my imagination. _

_So, next chapter will be Ronan's POV and Reaping. Look forward to it, people. 8D._

_Hint: There may or may not be a riot. ;D _

_Until next time, then._


	5. Ronan

_Lgpaospgohsagsaiogs. I haven't updated in such a long time! I apologize. I've been caught up working on my original story, "Earthshaker", and Sirenys introduced me to Magi. I have been so addicted of late it's starting to become dangerous. xD;;_

_Anyways, I know I promised a riot, but the whole thing little fit in very well. I'll try to make it appear somewhere during the next few chapters from Ronan's POV, but I do apologize. It just didn't flow that nicely._

_Oh, and, Ronan will play a slightly major role of killing when the Games start. Look forward to it, people! 8D_

_Review Replies:_

_Snowskeeper: Was she? All the stories I've read just make her a girl with a temper—no offense intended or anything. Still, I'm glad it worked out! ^^_

_ArmeXLass4ever: Thank you very much! ^^_

_Puriyo: lolno stahp—I am not worthy of these compliments—and oh gosh, okay, I'll continue writing them. Sorry, I'm not too fond of babies for dessert. I prefer milk chocolate- /slapped _

_He-Jay: Yeah xD;; I needed to make some slight changes to all the gender rules, since GC is slightly different and I needed to patch the two together. But oh gosh! Thanks for pointing that out. Since I'm not having the boy-girl tribute thing, I totally missed it! Aw well. Too confusing to change it now /:_

_Sirenys: LOL. Yes, that's true. But why are you worried about that? Ou O  
And lolnowhatpro-_

_WinterBarrows: Amg amg /flops around/ your reviews always brighten my day. Thank you so much! ;o;_

_The Veteran Prince: Thank you! ^^_

* * *

Chapter 4- Ronan

Until the Reaings, Ronan had never known what it was like to feel true despair. Why should he of? HE was what many people referred to as one of the 'lucky ones'. He had everything. The looks, the personality, the women, the fame. Even the Serdin Queen was enchanted by him.

And yet, Ronan felt he had never fit into the lavish people of Serdin. No matter how hard he tried, he could never fully hide his disgust at their outrageous parties and fashions. Even when girls laden down with drink appeared to have some fun with him, he pushed them away with a polite word and a little smile. He'd become a master social chameleon, changing his attitude and ways to fit the situation. However, there were still problems. The people of Serdin were desperately bored when the Chase Games were not on, and that only happened once a year.

And so the rumors of him having a secret lover back in District One had spread. It ran through the streets like wildfire, even spreading to most of the districts. He now made a name as Serdin's dog, a man that abandoned his district for a life of better shelter and clothing.

Though he was no stranger to rumors, this one had ticked him the wrong way. Out there, in the richest of districts, people were still starving. And here they were, the Serdin residents, making up silly gossip of the dreamy, long-haired gentleman from District One with the amazing, dark blue eyes.

Perhaps that was what had caused him to return to One, back to the place he was born and raised, the place he called home. He looked forward to meeting his old friends and family again, and nothing had disappointed. The meeting went smoothly, and greetings and affections were passed. Yet, as Ronan sat in the crowded room as refreshments were served, he looked around. Everyone seemed to fit right in. They'd managed to make a life with each other in District One, despite the constant threat of the Chase Games hanging over their heads.

And what was he, really?

In between.

He didn't belong in his district. He was too Serdin to do so. He didn't belong in Serdin. He was a district boy there.

There were some rebels, some haters of Serdin that considered him nothing more than scum, cursed, a traitor, one that did not deserve the right to live. He'd turned a blind eye to those insults—he was a smart, capable young man, he understood that not everything went the way you wanted sometimes—and yet, sometimes, he felt lonely. He wanted there to be another 'lucky one'. One who would be with him and realize that, being lucky wasn't exactly being truly happy.

But slowly, he began to think of himself as a Serdin citizen. He began spending more time there than in One. Slowly, slowly, he began thinking of himself as a person from Serdin, rather than a country boy from One. Serdin, Serdin, Serdin. The city was in his thoughts, his dreams, his actions. He stayed there almost year after year without returning, charming the Queen and being showered in praise, titles, riches, and affection.

However, on the day of the Reaping, he realized something he'd never bothered to think of before.

Despite how Serdin he seemed in his way, he was and would remain a citizen of District One. So when his name was called and peacekeepers marched in to grab him, he realized that, even with his ranking and titles, nothing mattered in the Chase Games. He was just another nobody, someone chosen from the glittering round glass ball with the District One seal—two swords crossing together entwined by an olive tree's branches—someone chosen to fight to the death for another's amusement. As he stood there, he felt others' eyes upon him. Some mocked him. This was a fate that even he, Ronan Eurdon, favorite of the 79th Serdin Queen, son of General Eurdon, citizen of District One, could not escape.

He'd watched the scene with Elesis Sieghart, leader of the Ruby Knights, in which she stood up to volunteer for her brother, Elsword Sieghart. He had seen her before around headquarters; a loud, brash individual that seemed to live by the motto, "Act first, think later". In fact, he had been among the crowd to scorn her for her apparently stupidity and young age. And yet, as he walked up to the stage, he could feel her eyes on him. Who was the fool now?

Though, now, as they stood side by side, he couldn't help but feel a little bit of respect for him. Elesis may be noisy and thick-headed, but no one could deny that she was loyal and hard-working. How else would she of gotten the post as the leader of the Ruby Knights at such a young age, when all others were still in school? How else had she struggled past those days when her parents first died and left them penniless? Elesis was a natural born fighter, one that didn't need special birth or luck. She created what she had, fought for it. So Ronan stared at his hands, at himself. Who was he? Why had he gotten the easy bit of life? He didn't know. All he knew was that this was his life, he'd never bothered to question it or fight against it. Why should he?

The announcer moved closer to him, paper holding his name gripped in her hand. Black streaked down her face, and he realized she was crying, thus making her—what do females call it? Mas…Mascara?—run down her face. She gabbers into the microphone, gripping his arm and sobbing about how a lovely young man fell victim to the cruel humor of the fates. As he watches her, he can't help but feel a little annoyance spark inside of him. No, this wasn't something orchestrated by the fates. This was something created by the merciless hand of Serdin, something that could be stopped, if only Serdin citizens stopped and used their brain for once.

He pushes that thought out of his mind—he really shouldn't judge like that—and picks up the announcer's hand, pressing it to his lips.

"Though many are upset, I will prefer to look on the brighter side of things. It is an honor to be of entertainment uses to the fine ladies of Serdin, if only that small, humble service."

Many giggled and blushed at his words, though Elesis turned away with a sour expression. He frowned slightly, noticing her in the corner his eye. What was her deal? His intention was to make friends with the red-haired female, to up against enemy forces together, but it seemed she did not have the exact same thoughts in mind. He shook his head, disappointed but not willing to give up trying, to come-face-to-face with a blushing announcer.

"Ronan, such a man of your stats must fight…" She muttered, sighing and pressing a hand to touch her powdered breast as a sign of distress.

_Only because you people force us to. _Ronan thinks bitterly for a moment, before returning to his normal, smooth manner.

"It is a pity," he agrees, face solemn. "However, if it must me, it must be. Will any of you ladies permit me to wear your ring upon my finger as I go into the arena?" HE winks into the camera, which also just happened to be in Elesis' direction. The female appeared horrified as others below screamed and begged him to look their way. Rings and other tokens were tossed onstage, to which he whispered "not yet, ladies," and tossed them back after implanting a kiss on the fake costume jewelry.

Soon after, they were escorted to the train that would bring them into Serdin. A guard announced that they would have two hours to say goodbye before the train began to teleport. A smiling announcer pressed her 24karat gold ring, set with a large, glittering ruby into his hand, whispering words of luck and promises she would find him sponsors. He assured her that he fully believed her ability and thanked her for her faith in him, before heading inside. To his surprise, his family was already there: parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and his younger sister. He forgot all formalities when his mother opened her arms and he rushed in, breathing the smell of lavender and fresh baked cookies. They separated after a good five minutes of embrace, and she pressed a small packet into his hand.

"For luck," She mouthed, eyes shining with unfallen tears. "I have hope for you, my son."

Ronan nodded, eyes stinging and throat beginning to choke up. He exchanged hugs all around, and patted the raven-blue hair of his sobbing little sister. But before they could sit down to talk things over, the two peacekeepers marched into his room.

It happened so suddenly, but they grabbed his mother. Tossed her outside. He stood up, angry. They took ahold and ushered the whole family out. Before he could utter a word, his arm is forced back with a painful _crack!_, and his head is slammed onto the glass table, shattering it. As knuckles hit the back of his head, he catches a few words before blacking out.

"Ronan Eurdon, you are hereby arrested for supporting rebel causes and causing violence in the streets of Serdin."

* * *

_Derp. I don't like this chapter…I'm sorry, you must be all tired from hearing me complain. xD;; I just really want to get into the action, you know? But there will be many more chapters before that happens, sadly…_

_Review please! It's much, much loved. _

_Until next time, then. _


	6. Sieghart

_Note: Internet is being a derp so this chapter's format may be a little wonky. I'll fix it tomorrow. Please read bottom for a VERY IMPORTANT question after you've finished reading the chapter (Which, by then, you SHOULD be at the bottom, but who knows) and the list of stuff I have to do tomorrow, which include working on the next chapter and typing something out._

_Dear lord this baby was 15 pages in Word. _

* * *

_Oh wow I have gone a long time without updating._

_My apologizes! School and life has been super busy._

_Anyways, before this chapter starts, I have to say something:  
I am horrible, horrible at writing Sieghart. For some reason, I've always had difficulty writing arrogant characters, and that's come back to bite me whenever I write Sieghart/Dio stories. So, I tried my best, really! I hope this isn't as bad as I deem it to be…_

_This is a rather long author's note, warning._

_Some notes before we start: __**To get full understanding of this chapter, please read**_

_1. I choose to use the fan-name, Zeke, rather than the official first name of Sieghart, because apparently, everytime I check the wiki, his name always changes…_

_2. Luke and Julia are real in the Grand Chase storyline of the manhwa. Julia is Sieghart's wife, and Luke is Sieghart's brother. Julia married Luke after Sieghart's apparent "death"_

_3. What Luke speaks is Italian. I'm sorry, I just thought, hey, two rich young master boys. Let's make them speak languages to be more cool 8D. Translations are after this whole note thing._

_4. Sieghart speaks French. llD. I've always imagined them to have good education so….languages, languages. And, I've always envisioned Sieghart as the guy whose secretly super smart and fit but just too lazy to do a thing._

_Translations:_

_Italian:_

_Oh mio dio = oh my god_

_Come stupido e possible? = how stupid are you?_

_Buona fortuna: good luck_

_French:_

_Au revior, mon frère! = Bye, my brother!_

_Aussi = Also_

_Bonne chance = good luck_

_(Note: My Italian/French is not fluent. There might be mistakes. I just tried to make Sieghart/Luke look cool :ming:.)_

_Review replies:_

_Sirenys: I—I don't know how to reply to that._

_Puriyo: LOLNO pls—Perfection is way better—Don't compare it to this crap :mingcry:_

_Snowskeeper: To tell the truth, I have absolutely no planning for the intensity of the riot and what happened, so let's just say it was a really bad one. /Horrible at planning what is plot twists how maek.  
Interconnection? Really? O_O" I thought…I never knew it was a _word. _  
Lol~ Thank you very much! ^^ Ronan/Elesis is one of the pairings in this story, so there'll be a lot more of their interactions! At least, until Elesis is killed by-/shot before spoiler is revealed.  
I pronounce it round-A-bout-s. Knowing me, I'm probably not right. xD;;  
Of course! It'll come right after this chapter. I'm not exactly 100% sure what you meant, so I kinda just wrote what I could. ^^'' Hope it was what you were looking for! I can redo it anytime if it doesn't meet standards._

_WinterBarrows: I'm glad you enjoy it! By my ability to pick out information from sentences with key words, I'll guess you're a Ronan fangirl, maybe? /shot  
Thank you so much for the praise! That always brightens up my day. ^^_

_The Veteran Prince: Oh no. It's just something I made up, not the official crest of Kanavan or something. xD;; I thought that each district should have a crest, so I spent some time and got some help to make them. ^^  
The swords represent the force of District One as Serdin's main arms, and the olive tree—Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom, strategy, and war's symbol. ((I think ^^" Sorry, I'm currently studying Egyptian Gods, so my Greek/Roman knowledge has spilled my mind…))—represent their peacekeeping duties in each district.  
Oh, sorry about that. I should of explained ^^" This story will need to cover all the characters, so it's going to move a bit slowly and the actual battle/death scenes will be much, much later.  
However, rest assured that I have been watching documentaries on places, animals and effects, as well as reading battle scenes and strategies. This is my first serious series that I have full intention of finishing, so I want to make sure it's polished and flawless. Once the time comes, I will try my best to make it something worth reading that has all my skill as an author! ^^_

_Darkmelt: Yes, it is! And as you can probably see, this is covering Sieghart. xD_

_ArmeXLass4ever: Lol, yes~ I do love my suspense O u O_

_Allissa: Thank you! ^^  
And yes, this will have all the characters, and even a few OCs._

_Holy crap, that was a long author's note. Two pages in Word, holy! _

_Anyways, I have you to thank for sitting/reading all of that. Without further ado, here's Sieghart's Reaping!_

* * *

Chapter Five: Sieghart

Scruffy collar pulled up to this chin. Quick check of his features in the nearby mirror, sitting on rusted edges. Scattered black hair with delicate grey eyes, and a fine, pointed chin with pleasant enough lips. There was no doubt about it, Zeke Sieghart was a looker. A fine man, popular in District Three and with the reputation of a ladies' man. Heck, he could even compare to the famous Ronan Eurdon of Serdin! His family, the Siegharts, was one of the richest on all of the districts, meaning that he had nothing to do all day but run around, help the elderly, and of course, flirt. It was just like a second nature to him, a sixth sense to get in bed every night. His mother had pointed a long, manicured finger at him to stop his foolishness, but his father simply laughed and told her that all boys did it.

But that wasn't exactly true. As Sieghart rushed out of his room to the velvet-carpeted floors of the hallway, he bumped into another person: about his height, with the same midnight-black hair, only tamed and slicked back with gel. This person was carrying two thick books and biting his red glasses, shifting from hip to hip. When he and Sieghart collided, he dropped both his glasses and books. Quickly scrambling down to get them, Sieghart stared at him for a millisecond before recognizing the person before himself. His face broke into a grin. A rather evil one, but a grin neverless.

"Well, if it isn't young master Luke." He said mockingly, a glint in his grey eyes as he bowed to the boy.

Luke scoffed.

"Same greets go to you, Sieghart." He retorted dryly. "And where are you headed on this fine day? Off to the streets again, I suppose?"

Sieghart winked, smiling cheerfully at the other's disdain. "And I suppose you're off to that dull prison of a room?"

"It's called a _library_, Sieghart." Luke snorted. "You should try visiting. Learn how to read. Thou lump of foul deformity."

"I'm pretty sure you just insulted me." Sieghart looked at him, eyes narrowed.

Luke glazed back innocently. "Perhaps if you read more Shakespeare, you'd understand. Or shall we get thee to a nunnery?"

Sieghart stared at his brother, grey eyes burning into grey. Finally, he sighed. "Reading doesn't get the chicks." Sieghart allowed a small smirk to play on his lips, knowing fully well that he'd won this round.

"I dunno." Luke shrugged. "I happen to know intelligent girls happen to like guys who read."

"Bonne chance, then." Sieghart snapped back.

"You know I'm better at language than you."

"Prove it."

"Oh mio dios," Luke sighed and raised the thick book to tap Sieghart's forehead. "Sieghart, one day, you're going to inherit this whole household, like it or not. You need to be prepared for that day." He scolded, playing a small tune on his older brother's forehead with the book.

Sieghart shoved him away. "Whatever. We'd already agreed you'd the brains while I the brawn, you know?

"Come stupido e possibile? That's against the rules."

"I'm made to break rules."

"Buona fortuna."

"What's that mean again?"

"My god, Sieghart, you're impossible." The younger stared with such intensity Sieghart knew it was time to exit.

"Au revior, mon frère!" He suddenly shouted and sped down the hallways again, but stopped just before he turned the corner, stunning a maid who'd come from the other end with a tray.

"Assui," He looked back at Luke, who stood there, stiff.

"I'm telling Julia about _that _today." He wiggled his eyebrows, knowing how much that annoyed his younger brother. "Just thought you'd wanna know!" He laughed and ran off, the shouts of Luke rising behind him. However, his thoughts weren't focused on the flustered call of his brother alerting the guards to catch the heir to the house, nor on the fact that guards with armed, rather pointy spears were heading towards him. They were instead, thousands of miles away, on a certain redhead, Julia.

Ah, Julia. The thought of the shy, graceful girl in the nearby neighbourhood brought a smile—a genuine one, not the playful smirk he gave Luke or the dazzling grin many other girls saw—onto his face. Julia was not your typical English rose of beauty. No, instead, she had wild hair, the color of pale orange gold, almost like the shade of sunset when the brilliant blonde mixed with the slowly fading orange of night meeting light, giving it an unearthly, mystical shade that Sieghart—and many other guys—felt drawn to.

Along with the wind, he exchanged greetings with others as he rushed through the streets, with the shouts of concerned elders and irritated peacekeepers after him. Though, he wasn't going to stop. Even if he got in trouble with the law, with the Queen herself, his family always had enough money to bribe him out. Add on the fact he was irresistibly good looking, and he had nothing to worry about rather than who the next love-stuck girl would fall right into his palm.

Up ahead, he saw her. Iridescent red hair shining in the light, small strands of golden orange flying across her face.

"Julia!" He called, voice rising into the air.

She spins around, red eyes widening at the sight of him. "Sieghart! Hello!" She greeted back with a small, interested nod of her head, causing her curls to fly into her face. She pushes them back with a flustered smile, making him laugh and ruffle the soft, orange strands, only to mess her hair up more. She pretended to be angry, and he just chuckled at her, drawing more fake-rage from her.

And so they continued. It was like there was no one else in the middle of the busy street but these two, nothing visible or existent in their view, nothing but each other.

Ah yes. Those were the golden times, the times were people would change their paths just to avoid breaking up the happy couple. They were _the _couple, the one that everyone talked about, that everyone prepared to give congratulations when they got married someday, the one where people stopped on the street just to admire how they looked together and wish them forever happiness and protection from evil forces, to which Julia would smile and thank them, gripping Sieghart's arm a little tighter, while Sieghart threw back his head and laughed, grey-white eyes sparkling and with the light of a little child, fixated on Julia and nothing else.

But fate has its ways, and most of the time, it loves to tease and test before allowing happiness.

_~Dangerous Times~_

And news did come; but not of a wedding, rather an engagement. The young lovebirds, though still madly in love, decided they wanted to take it slow and wait until the Reapings passed to host the wedding of the century. Gossip had slowly made its way up to Serdin, and now Sieghart and Julia's wedding was the thing everyone looked forward to, right after the excitement of the yearly Chase Games died down.

The Reapings dawned on a rather unusually cold day in District Three, land of the mightiest warriors, Highlanders, which many, despite their weapons and skills, took as a bad omen. People were awakened too early by the freakish temperature and had gone door to door, wishing each other good luck and hugging loved ones. Sieghart sat in a room with Luke and Julia, holding hands with his fiancée. Every now and then the girl's hand would tighten with fright, and Sieghart would have to calm her down with sweet words, and, most of the time, embraces. At this, Luke would look the other way and cough slightly. The couple would part with flushed faces and small words, and so it would repeat. As the hours slowly ticked by, anxiety grew and gnawed down on them, pressing onto their bodies like a heavy pack. There were no more words exchanged, and, somehow, Sieghart did not feel the impulse he normally had to tease Luke.

Finally, the time dawned and the three of them knew they couldn't put it off any longer, nor act like nothing was wrong. As they headed outside, blending in with the crowd (Though Sieghart and Luke stood out with their expensive, handmade, tailored to perfection suits with crisp collars and spotless, shining ties) and shuffling forward. It seemed that no one wanted to start—boys offered up the classic 'ladies first' routine, and girls lowered their eyes, clasped their hands, and motioned for the stronger male to take lead. As so it continued, on and on, until finally Sieghart gave a sigh of exasperation, grabbed Julia's hand, and pushed his way to the front of the crowd, now flooded with sounds of arguments and accusations.

"I don't know about you, but I'd like my friend and family's last memory of me to be cheerful, rather than screaming about men and women's rights and whatnot." He says, shrugging.

His words, though quietly spoken, have a huge effect. People begin to snap to their senses; raised voices and harmful words became doubtful whispers and sounds of apology. People began to turn towards Sieghart, to thank the 'young master' for his wise and encouraging words. Sieghart merely smiled and turned towards Julia, both of them knowing full well that, had it not been for his family's status and riches, no one would've bothered to listen to some punk kid with purple-black dyed hair and small, silver hoops pierced into his ears. Yes, Sieghart was not the son his parents had hoped for, but there was still Luke, who had remained silent and had a rather sulky look about him.

The commotion had died down, much to everyone's relief. No one could argue today. It'd lead to false rumors and mistaken punishments at the hands of annoyed peacekeepers. Seighart scoffed to think that three mere teens—Luke, Julia and himself—understood that better than those who proclaimed themselves adults and went completely crazy when the Reapings arrived. Hadn't there been a girl in District Two whose mother had been shot because of that? Lass, he believed her name was. Or was the girl Arme, and the guy Lass?

He was brought back to the event by Julia, gently tapping his hand. Sieghart smiled and brushed a strand of copper hair from her face, stroking her cheek affectionately. There were no words passed, but the two understood. They'd understood each other since they met, and it was no coincidence that it was what made them so close together, what helped shape them into _the _couple, minus Sieghart's huge family status and everything.

Luke came running up to them, breaking them of their embrace. He took a look at the two of them, and muttered a small 'sorry', while looking down and kicking the small pebbles in the ground.

Sieghart shook his head, and took Julia by the hand, heading towards the Reaping area, slightly annoyed at how Luke seemed to always stumble in and ruin a perfectly good moment between Julia and him, just as Sieghart was getting prepare to kiss her.

As he walked, he stomped his feet like a small child, so that the sound echoed all around the large, spread arena. The Reaping area was a large, Roman-styled coliseum, the kind where one would expect to see gladiators fighting to the death or something. It was roofless, which meant that they soon became soaked by the pouring rain. Voices began to rise again; the younger ones were crying, the older ones fed up. This time, it was a united sound to complain that a barrier should be put up to protect them from the rain. However, they were soon quieted by Julia's stony glare. She turned back to Sieghart, arms crossed.

"Seriously, people take magic for granted," She huffed. "It'd take loads of manpower to create a barrier that big, and it'd be useless, since it'd be reflecting the rain at top speed and probably injure someone."

"So mini bullets of rain will be bouncing here and there, maiming peacekeepers?" Sieghart joked, eyebrows raised.

Her face softened, smiling slightly. "Maybe."

"Awesome. Can you do it and then direct your mini-bullets to hit the announcer in the face?" Sieghart had that familiar mischievous grin on his face.

"I said it'd reflect, not that I could control it!" Julia was laughing though, punching Sieghart on the arm. Even with her copper hair stuck to her face in limp folds, she looked every bit as flawless and beautiful as Sieghart always saw her. As he reached out a hand to touch her cheek, he was interrupted.

"Sieghart!" Luke poked him in the ribs, looking terrified.

Sieghart turned to his brother with an annoyed expression. "What now?"

"I need to talk to you!"

"I'm busy." He snapped.

"This is urgent!"

"Nothing is more urgent than Julia."

"No, you don't understand," Luke pleaded. "Sieghart, _please."_

Please? That was new. Luke normally didn't bother to ask politely when he wanted something from Sieghart. Still, the man could be impossibly stubborn, and so it was.

"No." He answered curtly, dismissing Luke like he'd done before with the servants of the house.

"_Sieghart!" _

Meanwhile, Julia had decided to leave the two bickering brothers alone. She headed off to join her age group in the female section, and a very grumpy Sieghart was left with a scared Luke. Sieghart turned on his brother with an absolutely terriflying expression.

"So what's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Sieghart, we need to talk, now! This is important! It could affect all of-" Before Luke could finish, though, they were jabbed with the butt of a gun and ran towards their separate age groups. Luke looked at Sieghart one last time with desperate eyes, before being swept up with other boys his age. SIeghart decided to simply ignore his younger brother—knowing Luke, it was an attack of the nervous, come a few hours later than usual.

And with that, the ceremony began as soon as everyone was settled. With the grandly announced arrival of the announcer's sleek black train, everyone shuffled aside to let a rather young, pop-star dressed girl with springy pink pigtails cross through. She stepped to the center and crossed French-manicured nails over the microphone, and spoke.

"Attention, attention!"

Every head turned towards the girl in pink, who seemed totally fearless. In response to the confused glowers of people, she simply winked and jigged her bracelets—white lace on gold with small flowers. She opened a small, glossy mouth and began to speak.

"I understand this is not an normal situation, and many of you are confused. However, please, rest assured that I will try my best to aid you in the Reaping of our beloved Chase Games! Happy Chase Games everyone, and may the odds be forever in your favour!" She winked again to the crowd, pausing as if waiting for praise.

Nothing happened. The ground was silent as eyes watched her carefully. The girl laughed nervously and looked around, wide pink eyes sparkling with ruby eyeshadow.

"Well! Aren't you a excited bunch? I'm Amy, a Talent from District Seven! It's an honour to be here to serve all of you!" She clapped her hands happily and did a small dance the small, center stage, shaking her hips and grinning widely.

"What's with her?" Someone behind Sieghart snickered.

"She's another dog of Serdin's. They're all mental inside their little, sparkly heads." Someone else replied, and a bunch of snide laughs could be heard. Sieghart rolled his eyes as they continued to insult Amy, to pick out each of her faults and rip in into shreds like little monsters at Christmas.

Amy stepped up to the glass balls that held everyone's names inside, unaware of the insults to her very being.

"Alrighty! First tribute!" She flashed another grin and drew the paper up in a matter of seconds. She opened it, clawed at it with her rounded nails, and read the name without hesitation. If Luke hadn't been sneaking up and poking Sieghart in the ribs, he might have been prepared for what happened next.

"And the first tribute this year for the Chase Games is…." Amy paused for a split second, not enough for Sieghart to get ready.

"Sieghart," Luke was saying, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "I need to—"

"Zeke Sieghart!" Amy's loud, cheering chirp rings around the area, settling in. Everyone and meaning _everyone, _turned to Sieghart, who briskly shoved Luke aside and walked up to Amy, peacekeepers following. He walks up to Amy, who smirks at him, batting long pink lashes.

"So!" She pauses, grinning widely. "The famous Zeke Sieghart, next in line for the house of Sieghart?"

Sieghart nods, eyes flickering away from her's, almost like he was bored.

Amy puffed up her cheeks in a kiddish, bored manner, but continued, shoving the microphone to his mouth.

"Zeke, are you worried about the Chase Games? I mean, now that you're a tribute and all."

He swatted her away. "Call me SIeghart. And no, should I be?" He raised an eyebrow, giving her the famous _look_.

Amy flustered. "Well, what—no, why—aren't you worried?" She clicked her bracelets against each other, glaring at Sieghart, who stared innocently back.

"I've got money, good health, and looks. Any other questions? Sorry, but I'd like to just head on over to Serdin already. Better ladies there, you know?" He eyed her, making a small _tsk _noise with his mouth.

Amy looked ready to explode. She stomped away after a dismissal speech, with the excuse that she had to reapply her makeup and would be back within a few minutes to look forward to the 'fun' of picking another tribute. To no surprise, Sieghart followed her, hands stuffed in his pockets, ambling along like he had all the time in the world.

"Why are you following me." The question came from gritted teeth, more of a hardened statement than curious wondering.

"I dunno where the Serdin train is. You're supposed to be my guide, right? Problem, miss announcer?" He smiled his usual, charming, heartbreaking grin.

"What was that out there?" She ignores his teasing and glares at him, getting straight to the point.

"What are you talking about?" He blinks, appearing totally innocent.

"You made a fool of me in front of live camera!" Amy hissed.

"Did I now?" Sieghart stared her down, unwavering. "I thought I had to be 'cool' for the sponsors."  
"Cool does not mean insulting me, the announcer whose supposed to guide you through everything!"

"Why are you even an announcer?" The question came from him suddenly and took both of them off guard.

"I-It's a great honour bestowed upon me by the Queen herself. Do not make lightly of it!" Amy slightly stuttered.

Sieghart narrowed his eyes. Last time he checked, the Queen did not give out random honours and jobs to girls she saw on the street. He wondered what was going on with Serdin…Then again, he never read newspapers, so who knew. Maybe the Queen had a sudden change of heart or something. Though the Queen was kind compared to other rulers of Serdin and the twelve districts, she couldn't be counted as the most kind person in the world or anything.

"I see. Well, okay then." Sieghart decides to walk himself out of the scene, spinning on his heels to set a straight path towards the train.

"Wait!" Amy called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Here," She handed him a clipboard and pen, with white sheets labeled DISTRICT TRIBUTE TRAINING FORMS.

"What's for?" He asked, clicking the pen.

"Mark out your weaknesses. We'll get you training."

"I don't have any."

Amy stopped to look at him. "You're kidding."

"Nope." He gave a grin.

"You can't just not have weakness." She stared, voice tired.

"Well, I don't have any. I trained awesomely as a kid."

"First of all, awesomely is not a word. Second of all, you're up against demons! How do you think you'll win, especially when one of them has Grandark—" Here, Amy stopped, covering her mouth.

"Grandark?" Sieghart questioned. Amy had said too much.

"N-nothing! Did I say Grandark? Wow, I must be sleepy, hahaha. I meant…Gland…..ark….Grand dark! Grand Chase! Ahahaha…Grand Chase, isn't that interesting? Oh yes, quite, Chase Games and all that, I really must go now, bye." And with that, Amy rushed off, scurrying with her hands over her mouth. Sieghart stared after her, confused.

"Grandark, hm?" He looked at the train.

"Well, this will be one interesting Chase Games."

* * *

_...And that's it! Grandark finally reveals itself, dun dun dun._

_Well, not really, but it's mentioned. xD; Grandark plays a key role in the secondary, more secretive plot, so keep your eyes peeled, people! _

_Also, Grandark may or may not be responsible for the death of one or more of your favourite character/OCs. Blame the killer sword people, the killer sword. _

_Also, one __**VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION I SUGGEST YOU ALL READ**_

_Would you prefer I wrote about why Luke was so scared as an extra chapter, or skipped right to Kieran, WinterBarrow's OC? _

_Luke might give you a little insight on what's happening as the secret plot to Dangerous Times (because I tried (and probably failed) to connect real history, GC history, and HG history together. Crossbreeding!), while Kieran (oh god I can't write OCs WinterBarrows I am so sorry if I mess him up so bad-) will get us to the whole fighting/killing/blood spatter quicker! 8D_

_Also, following this release will be a geographic little thing on the whole twelve districts + Serdin, as requested by Snowskeeper. I might need to write that at a later date (AKA tomorrow) and publish it either tomorrow or the day after, since I have a concert tomorrow and a party following the next day, and will probably be really busy/need to go to sleep._

_So yep. Answer the question, please!_

_…Until then time, then~ ._


	7. Requested: Geography & Insight

_Derp. As explained in the "Sieghart" Chapter, this is a little extra explaining a bit more on each of the districts._

_Requested by Snowskeeper. Please tell me if it's not what you wanted; I can always redo it! I'm not exactly sure what you meant so I kinda put a little bit of creative into it. xD;;_

_Thanks go to He-Jay for helping me with Korean! _

_The symbols were kinda based off Egyptian myths/gods. :ming:..I happen to base things off what I'm studying, and currently my interest in Egypt, so…yep._

* * *

Dangerous Times: World

_Author's note: Considering the world of DT has Serdin as the capital and Kanavan as a secret base, I'd imagine it takes place in the continent of Bermesiah. _

For this story, Serdin is placed where the Outer Wall of Serdin would be. Trail Forest and Trail Tower would be the training grounds for tributes. Depending on the Chase Game, the arena could be anywhere around Bermesiah, and, if needed, Silverland. Ellia and Xenia do not play a major (if any) role in Dangerous Times.

District One- Guard: Placement around the grassy area of Kerrie Beach up to the volcanoes of Gorgos' Dungeon.  
A place in which all peacekeepers are trained. Home to swordsmen. Average enough place with a huge gap between the poor and the rich.  
Symbol: A pair of sword entwined by an olive branch. The swords express the District's force and loyalty to Serdin as its first district. The olive branch is Athena's (Greek God of wisdom, strategy, and war) symbol and stands for the Districts brains and armed force.

District Two-Magic: Placement just south of Outer Wall of Serdin, towards the nameless green hills.  
A small, lush place where all magic needs/items are met/crafted. Many Serdin nobles come here to invest. A lively, elegant with rather strict peacekeepers. Wronged use of magic is a serious crime.  
Symbol: A great war staff with a glowing dark blue orb entwined around a sycamore tree with the Korean letter 앎 imprinted in it.  
The war staff is the mage's greatest weapon, while the sycamore tree is Isis, Egyptian goddess of magic, motherhood and fertility's symbol. Deep blue is Merlin's colour, first magician and advisor of King Arthur's court. The Korean word is "knowledge", and stands for the magicians' learning of the world and its forces to generate actual magic from it. Also, Grand Chase is native to Korea.

District Three- Highlander: Placement mostly in Orc Temple expanding a little into the unnamed plains east of it.  
A land full of powerful humans, some with powers nearly matching those of demons. They are powerful and arrogant, mostly keeping to themselves. They obey Serdin's rules to avoid conflict.  
Symbol: A red orb with a small black cat's eye, surrounded by dark red flames lined with black.  
The red orb symbolizes the sun disk, Ra, Egyptian God of the sun's symbol, and shows the Highlanders as the first and strongest humans. The cat's eye expresses both Bastet and Sekhmet, both cat-like goddesses set with duties of Ra and protecting the sun disk. Highlanders are considered the most powerful force in Serdin's complete control, which is why many of them are drafted to fight in the war with demons.

District Four-Elf: Placement: Around Elven Forest towards the unnamed green plains.  
A vast place with beautiful landscapes and waters, with roaming wildlife and wise, aged elves. Since the great war—in which Serdin took control of almost all the districts—their numbers have died off in large amounts. Normally, elves sent to Serdin are half-bloods forced to volunteer, scorned upon by pureblooded elves.  
Symbol: A composite bow with an arrow made of leaves, surrounded by mystical smoke with a faint, glowing orb.  
The composite bow is the ultimate weapon for the archer elves. Elves are naturally connected to nature and, in most cases, archery, because of their superior skills in hearing and sight. The smoke expresses the elves touch with mystical things, such as spirits or Mother Nature herself.

District Five-Creation: Placement: At the bottom of the Gorge of Oath  
A district with both creators and creations. A place where most items are made, including slaves/gladiators/bodyguards if needed.  
Symbol: Two blue Kounat stones connected by electricity. The stones are from the legendary city, Kounat, a myth from long ago. The electricity expresses the district's up-to-date systems and creations.

District Six-Demon: Placement: Settled upon those smoking mountains near Forsaken Barrows.  
A district separated from all the others, bordered by black, churning flames that cause harm to all unlucky wanderers. A place where no one can get in and no one can get out, it is a place of darkness, cold, and no signs of nature whatsoever. Split into different tribes, the Burning Canyon is the current leading alpha group. They send tributes each year for the Chase Games to keep Serdin at bay in the war they currently fight. Normally, demons win each year.  
Symbol: No symbol, because the districts' demons refuse to accept one clan's image as their leader.

District Seven-Talents: Placement: Between Serdin and Gorgos' Dungeon.  
A district spoiled by Serdin. No citizens can actually move to this district, they must be chosen by Serdin from other districts. Rather than money, they have tickets for food, shelter, and goodies. The whole district is tightly controlled and shielded from the outside world by Serdin.  
Symbol: Eye of Horus, an ancient Egyptian symbol of talent, protection, and healing.

District Eight-Hunting: Placement: Small islands south of Kerrie Beach.  
A district that provides most of the food and materials for Serdin. There are many trained assassins, gunsmen, and archers from the district. A mostly ruthless district where fights break out easily.  
Symbol: A hunting dog chasing a blue flame with small items of hunting and livestock. The hunting dog is Artemis, Greek god of the hunt and maidens' symbol. The blue flame represent the districts cool and deadly nature, and the various items of livestock and hunting express their weapons.

District Nine-Fighter: Placement: The furthest east from Serdin, towards the plains.  
A district full of masters of martial arts. This district doesn't stand out that much, and normally doesn't win the Chase Games. It prefers to stay at peace and doesn't have any news of rebellion. However, fast thinkers and even faster hitters make this district not to be messed with.  
Symbol: A burning fist. Straightfoward and to the point, the symbol expresses their concealed rage and controlled strength.

District Ten-Holy: Placement: Deep in the Forgotten City  
A place that's surrounded by a pure, holy barrier. Nothing much is known about this place, other than the fact it happens to be very close with District Eleven, Gods/Religion.  
Symbol: A pure white dove supporting an orb of the same colour. A steel cage borders the image. The cage was forced onto their crest after Serdin conquered them. The dove represents love and forgiveness, which will lead to purity and freedom, as expressed by the orb.

District Eleven- Gods/Religion: Placement: Near Forgotten City  
A highly religious district that views its gods above all, they stay away from mainland activities and hardly appear in any news.  
Symbol: Stained glass window with Eransis, Lisnar, and Armerian.

District Twelve: ERROR: Placement: Near the Marsh of Oblivion, a place where no resources grow. The first district to be claimed by Serdin, it has long since been deemed unworthy and does not get much. Its citizens suffer in poverty and it does not even have the honour of getting a name/crest.  
Symbol: ERROR

* * *

_I'm sorry :ming: I kinda ran out of ideas once I reached hunting, OTL. Anyways, thank you all very much for reading my question and voting! The next chapter will be about Dangerous Time's "second", or "secret" plot. Thanks again!_

_…Until next time, then~. _


	8. Special: Luke

_Ohmigosh! 40+ reviews? I love you guys :,D Seriously, where do you all come from? It seemed like yesterday when this barely made it to 5 reviews, and now here it is, Forty. Freaking. Reviews.  
Thank you all, whoever took the time to type out a small review and press the submit button, thank you!  
This is amazing. I never imagined I'd get more than 20, but 40? Ermaigehd Q / A / Q  
And all this praise omfg wat- I am not worthy ;u; _

_Let's make it to 50 reviews as our next life goal, okay? /slapped _

_Review Replies~_

_Puri: Happy birthday! llD And enjoy this slightly lame b-day present 8DD"" I'msorryIcan'tcomparetowhatSirenysgaveyou hnngthatwassoproandawesome;n; /kicks lame DT chapter  
Lolno hush wat pro u r the only pro here._

_WinterBarrows: Alkgkalhsgahs;hg. Ty ty ;u; All dat praise ;u;  
Pftt—okay xD;;  
Same, same here! All dem fine GC boys llD  
Oh, you'll know 8D Amy is an announcer and a tribute as well! 8D I love my angsty irony character sufferings llD_

_Sirenys: llD…I really  
don't know  
what to say  
Thanks?_

_Shinedown: LOlwhatawesomeness? Ty ty ;u;_

_LOL. Yes, yes, I do. xDD But we're all friends here, so it's all goo Would you like strange reviews? O u O  
O A O /v/ pls. It's not that good!  
O A O" All dem squishy hugs. (.w.)  
Pftt—Sorry! I'll try to put him in, but he probably won't appear until the actual Xion chapter ;A ; WhichI'mgoingtofailbadatohgodwhywri tingOCshowdo.  
Your OCs are all so pro I have no idea how to write. /A/_

_Snowskeeper: Hush hush. Your writing is beau. You'll have publishers here and there begging for the honour! I mean, dat chapter about Jackie you sent me. Dat chapter. Hnnggg. /flopflop  
Ty ty ;u;"""  
Orly now? Well, my mother was a THESARUS. Beat that! O m O_

_Special Chapter: Geography & Insight Review Replies: _

_Sirenys: Wat pro. No u._

_The Veteran Prince: Oh, yes. Julia is Sieghart's official wife, according to the wiki.  
I don't think you can find the manwha online. As Grand Chase is not very popular, I believe the up-to-date chapters can only be found in Korea._

_Snowskeeper: Pftt—you go do that. You amaze me sometimes. xDDD _

_Allissa: Thank you! ^_^ And lolnowhatimagination. I'm the least imaginative person I know llDD"" Whatever pro that's come from my writing is always Sirenys and Puriyo (And sometimes other authors but it would take a while for me to list them here-) helping me. ;u; I love the Grand Chase author community~_

_Shinedown: O A O Stahp squishy hugging meh! O / A / O _

_Wow that was a long list of review replies. Thanks again for everyone who takes the time to review! It really brightens up my day and helps me write faster llD""_

_Puriyo: oh god I'm so sorry I butchered the pro of Sharrif and Aalis._

_Another note: This chapter will be considered Chapter Seven instead of Six because I'm counting Geography & Insight as a chapter. ^^_

* * *

Chapter Seven: :Special: Luke

He scurries quickly across sandy plains, wincing with each crunch his boots made on the desert ground.

Lifting his grey traveler's cloak, bright grey eyes laminated in the ghostly glow of the moon stare off into the distance, where a shape vaguely resembling a giant fortress could be made out. He approaches the shadows, wary.

As his feet cross that strange borderline from desert to grass, hidden figures react quickly and he finds the pearl-white, sharpened curved edge of a scimitar pressed to his neck.

"Stop." The word lifts into the air as he takes a breath in, holding it as he slowly lifts his hands up to show he means no harm. He briefly considers turning back and running away, quickly, back to District Three and into his soft bed before anyone realized he was missing. However, one thought of what drove him here strengthens his resolve, opening his mouth and speaking in a parched tone from his long-distance run.

"Let me pass." The command sounds forlorn to his ears; he's never had to speak in a manner like this. Normally, one soft word, and he was given anything he wanted.

"And why shall I do that?" The figure withdraws the scimitar in the snap of a second, snaking up front to face him. A quick brush of white hair, glowing a unearthly shade with the added effect of the full moon behind her, the female's exotic grey-purple eyes glare at him, mere slits of deadly that resembled a snake eyeing a little mouse.

"I'm here to talk something over with Kaze'aze." He draws back the musty hood, revealing his face. "It's me," He pauses, searching for the female's name. As he eyes the tattoo of a snake sneaking between her neckline to rest, content, on her breast, it comes to him. "Sharrif."

"Oh, so you remember me, _master _Luke." She purrs, flipping the scimitar up into the air. Luke eyes the blade warily, wondering where it'll land.

Sharrif catches the jeweled hilt between her fingers, narrow eyes sliding to hold his glaze from the corners of her eyes. "Sadly, my lord, that doesn't give me a reason to let you pass."

"I have matters to discuss that's beyond the likes of you scum." As the last word escapes his mouth, he feels the female move. Before he can fully understand what's happening, he feels Sharrif's lean body pressed up against him, and the soft click of a gun as she shoves it all too roughly near his parts.

"Anything and everything you have to say will be said here," She hisses, finger stroking the opening of his pants. "Unless you want your babies to blown off, right here and now."

Luke gulped, a small choking sound escaping him like a mouse dying. However, before he can speak anything, another voice sounds.

"Sister, please don't…" A smaller, softer voice can be heard as a pale hand reaches for Sharrif's coffee-coloured fingers. The female scoffs and removes the gun—much to Luke's relief—turning to face the newcomer.

"Aalis. Why are you here?"

The shine of something bright red reveals a single eye, as a small boy steps into the light. Coated in bandages, Luke wondered—as he had so many times before—why in the world Aalis happened to always cover himself up with rolls of toilet paper, or bandages. But then again, the Chase Games victors were all old fellows.

"Sister Arcana is carrying out her plan. Their discussing it inside. Giou said I should talk a walk, so I wanted to visit you, Sharrif. I heard you were on guard duty tonight." The boy tips his head and makes a few small strums on his guitar, single red eye not leaving Luke.

Luke feels unnerved by the soft manner of speech and the almost _dead _look in the boy's eye, but he's surprised when the other greets him almost curiously.

"Hello, Luke. What are you doing here?"

"Don't hello me." Luke snaps back, feeling the anger that had driven him to come here returning now that Sharrif didn't have him at gunpoint.

Aalis looked surprised, mouth slightly open in question of Luke's grumpy mood.

"Is anything wrong?" Another few notes on his guitar, playing a small melody that Luke found haunting yet calming, but he didn't care much to listen to the full tune. He needed answers, and it didn't matter who it was that gave it to him.

"You know full well what's 'wrong'."

"…" Aalis glanced at Sharrif, who shrugged, arms crossed over her chest so the head of the snake disappeared down the folds of her shirt.

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. His white-grey eyes sparkled in annoyance as he stared directly at Sharrif.

"Take me to Aceline."

"No." The female's arms are still crossed, her glare focused on him.

He gritted his teeth. "Selena then."

"No." Another blunt answer.

"Roseclere."

"Read my lips. N-O. No."

"I have matters to talk about!" He's shouting now, and he can feel the tears beginning to well in the back of his eyes. Oh, great. The shock of yesterday was finally getting to him. Why couldn't it of came when he held a sobbing Julia in his arms, orange hair flying everywhere as she beat down on his chest, fists pummeling as she shouted about how unfair the whole thing seems; how Sieghart of all people had to picked, how they didn't do anything about it, how _he _didn't do anything about it. As he remembers the memory, he can feel a small pain at his chest, and he has to breathe, to remember, no, this was reality, this was not a dream, and that his chest hurt, his heart hurt, his very _being _hurt from the widespread news of Sieghart of District Three being picked as a tribute just as the young lord found happiness, and he can see the announcers piling up at his door to bash upon the oak wood and demand an interview on how he feels, and oh no, he's panicking but he can't do anything, he can't do anything at all and that's what gets to him every night as he changes for bed and waits at the door for a sobbing Julia that he knows will arrive sooner or later for him to counsel, and in the dull back of his mind he briefly wonders who'll counsel her tonight, or her shock at finding out Luke isn't home today, her panic, _his _panic—

He didn't volunteer.

He didn't volunteer to go up for Sieghart, to die for his older brother, and that's what will get him as he watches the wedding announcers clean up the studio and pack all the designs of wedding gowns, wedding gowns that would look so good on Julia, on the girl he's crushed on for the longest time as he watches her kiss his brother, as he stands there, smiling a silly little grin at how Sieghart has won again.

But now that would never happen.

And he needed to change that. He'd sell his soul to the Devil—To Kaze'aze—his being forever entwined to God, just so that Sieghart could come home, so he could see his annoying brother in the morning once again.

Which is what had led him into this castle of hell, this foolish rebellion.

"Just let me inside." His voice sounds desperate; pleading, but he doesn't care, he can't care.

Perhaps it's because the female pirate does have a heart after all, or she simply got annoyed of arguing with him, but Sharrif sighs. "Fine. Go ahead."

Luke crosses them with two wide steps, eyes focused on the mossy, rotting castle doors and nothing else.

The headquarters of the 'Kanavan Project', a secret rebel group that wanted to uproot Serdin and plant Districts One, Two and Four in charge, founded by a woman whom everyone addressed as Lady Kaze'aze. Elsword, Arme, and Lire, the three tributes—or slaves—picked for this project, had bugged Reapings. The announcers had either been blackmailed or tortured into helping, but no one had counted on the headstrong Elesis to love her brother that much to volunteer.

And that was the first strike, when Kaze'aze stormed into the control room, eyes blazing, promising that once she got her hands on Elesis she'd completely break the girl down, shatter her own mind and replace Kaze'aze's wishes in them. For the 'chosen' tributes couldn't have relationships or emotions; wasn't that why they shot Arme's mother at the Reaping? Wasn't that why they caused a stir that led to a riot in the streets of Serdin, then blamed it upon Ronan Eurdon of One? They needed these girls to be mindless, brainwashed rulers, with them silently lurking and ruling in the back. The Kanavan Project was based upon olden day myths about a place also named Kanavan, a place that lived in peace with Serdin. However, Serdin took control and was cruel towards their neighbor—or so the legends say—and that caused the Kanavan Queen to stage a fight between the two. The myth is then split into three endings; a ending where the Kanavan Queen overcame Serdin and became queen of the whole land. A second is that Kaze'aze, the Queen's faithful and loyal advisor, gave up her life for the goodness of Kanavan, and her tortured death was what caused peace. The third ending is long lost, and something that only a few chosen people know.

And those endings were what they based their actions upon. For Kanavan to once again beat Serdin to the ground, and this time, create a much more peaceful world. Kaze'aze had promised all of them that it didn't matter the amount of bloodshed and the Serdin citizens they killed. After all, it was only for a better world, right?

Sometimes, though, Luke wondered about that. He didn't like the spark of terror that enflamed Kaze'aze's eyes sometimes, or the fact all her promises seemed coated in honey—too good to be true, come to bite them back in the butt later. She seemed all-knowing, magical, intelligent and powerful.

And downright deadly.

Sometimes, it felt that Kaze'aze—and even some of the mentors—didn't care about the well-being of their tributes, the ones they needed to save, and only about spreading terror into the heart of Serdin's soft, spoiled people. The bold, violent actions without a hint of remorse in return—like the risky adventure to District Five to strike a deal with the silent demon, Zero, that for the price of his life they would give him something to mark his place in history as the brutal killer of the Chase Games, Grandark—seemed more to inflict terror than to rescue and plan from the shadows.

Luke did not normally like taking risks and hoping for the better end, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside the forlorn castle.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Luke, dear, what brings someone of your status to don a disguise and visit us here? Have we grown that much on you?" The smiling woman greets Luke with a polite nod of her head and motion for him to take a seat, all while pouring a cup of tea and ripping open a pack of crackers. Dipping a long red nail in, she withdraws a jam cookie and hands it to Luke. Luke takes the cookie with a small word of thanks, eyeing it.

Even as Kaze'aze did all of this, her eyes were cold. A calm, unnerving shade of deep red that never glowed with kindness, widened in surprise, nothing. The only two emotions Kaze'aze expressed were wicked gee and dangerous anger.

"I thought we had a deal." Luke spoke, crushing the cookie slightly between two fingers. The small bits of grain float to rest on the desk, where Kaze'aze's small dog leaps onto his lap to lick at it. Kaze'aze makes a small noise and eyes the doggy droll mixed with crunched grain on her used-to-be spotless desk. Her thin eyebrows arch up as she folds long fingers underneath her chin.

"For what?"

"The Reaping." Luke stares her down, but her eyes remain calm, holding his glaze. Her blood-red lips form as a chilling tone comes out.

"We did." She simply agrees.

"So why didn't you keep it?" He slams his hand down, cookie completely crushed. Bits of cracker and jam stick to his finger and Kaze'aze's dog begins licking, but he hardly pays attention to the small grey thing.

"You're cleaning that up." Her red eyes meet Luke's furious grey ones.

"Don't play with me." He grits his teeth. "Or I'll reveal your hideout to all of Serdin. They'll be here within seconds and you can kiss your Kanavan dreams goodbye."

"And your brother, Zeke, would be dead." Kaze'aze remarks softly, not at all affected by Luke's threat.

Luke paused, unsure what to say.

"That will not benefit anyone, Luke dear. Calm down."

Luke picks up his tea, glaring over the edge of the cup's brim at her.

Kaze'aze takes a small, thin file, sliding it over to Luke. Before he can grab it, she sets long red fingernails out, clawing into the cardboard paper.

"We had agreed that neither you nor Julia would be picked. Sieghart was not mentioned. That was the deal we arranged with Amy."

Luke stared at her, dumbfolded.

"Take a look if you don't believe me." Kaze'aze stands up, walking in elegant poise to the door. "I'll trust you'll take your leave soon enough and return the file to my desk."

She leaned down, until she was level with him, dark purple hair falling to brush his ear. "And Luke, honey," She smiled at him again, but this time the smile was sickening and sadistic, a small revealer of her true self.

"Next time, be clearer on your requests. I naturally assumed it meant only you and Julia when you said _us." _

And she took her leave, long heels clacking in the hallway as Luke buried his head in his and cursed everything—the wretched woman, this evil group, and his own foolishness.

He sold his soul to the Devil, and he'd gained nothing in return. He had to live with the lifelong shattering reminder that he'd not bothered to make things clear, that he wanted Sieghart and Julia to be with him all his life.

And now it was too late.

* * *

_Derp. Lame ending is lame. _

_Well, good enough xD;; There was quite a lot of foreshadowing for future chapters in this little snip!  
Also, you may take your guesses at the third and "true" ending of the Kanavan/Serdin tale. 8D It's actually quite obvious. _

_Next chapter is Kieran! Oh god. I'll try my best! ^^"""""" _

_…Until next time, then~. _


	9. Kieran

_Oh my gosh. One more review until 50 reviews? /A/""' How—I just—What—Amg ty all of you so much ;u; I never expected to get to almost-50!_

_A __**very important **__note:  
As the author of this story, I ask that you, as readers, do __**not**__ skip any chapter, even if it's about the OC of another authors'. There will probably be key scenes in each and every chapter, and if you skip a chapter you might end up being confused in future ones. Thanks!_

_Other notes:  
-Amy is rather off, isn't see? llD"" No worries, you'll see why. ^^  
-Oh god wat. What is this crap I turned the awesomely-pro Kieran into? ; A ;  
I'm sorry. I was listening to Cry's Love Song as I wrote this and it just somehow…happened.  
I'm sorry he turned more socially awkward hobo than arrogantly cool :mingcry:  
-Three cheers for the SIeghart/Amy/Kieran gang! 8D…Go District Three! 8D  
-This is skipping back time to a day or so before Luke left with his meeting with Kaze'aze.  
-Also, Sirenys made a rather…interesting parody to Dangerous Times. Interesting as in completely ridiculous. It's called "Dangerous Times- ver Sexy". Go check it out! Warning: There's some /cough/ a lot/cough/ of bad words in it. You might not wanna read. Puriyo, shinedown and I had quite a good time laughing about it while Sirenys "llD"'d in the background. _

_Review Replies~_

_Sirenys: ._

_Snowskeeper: LOL. Is she? Actually, Kaze'aze might be one of my favourite characters in this story. I love my angst-causing treacherous villians llD.  
:ohyou:  
Pftt—Okay, good to be of service, monsieur. Crumpet?_

_Puri: HNNNGG dat chapter of Perfect pls it was so much pro cannot handle all this beau.  
Good c:  
LOLno. What pro? After seeing Perfection, this is nothing. :ming:  
And Sharrif and Aalis were only BA because they were your BA characters you._

_Shinedown: LOLnowhatamazingworkplsyou.  
Oka What weirdness? O U O  
amg duckie how do u so pro flop flop flop flopflopflopflop  
^Are you dying now? O u O  
Stahp squishy hugging meh! O A O /m/_

_WinterBarrows: I—I really hope I didn't shatter that excitement or love with my crappy brutalization of your amazing pro character. /razycray.  
Ty ty ;u; You make my crap sound like something amazing ;u;  
Sure 8DD Let's go off and have a magical tea party where no one else is invite :Jack Sparrow pose: _

_And now for the actual chapter which ermaigehdwhy—_

* * *

Chapter Eight: Kieran

He never expected people to care. Quite frankly, they didn't either. Perhaps it was the magic—or 100% crap—of this whole Chase Games business that softened everyone's heart, and made them bond together under one common enemy, thus feeling pity for even those they wished dead sometimes because he was just _so _annoying.

Still, he'd never imagined he'd be part of that little 'alliance', or the very center of it. He'd always thought he only existed for entertainment purposes, to piss off the lady stopping to buy a loaf of bread or watch the girl's face swell up with rage as he darted in and out, commenting on the ugliness of her new, yellow flower-print dress. He knew that he'd upset all the citizens in District Three one too many times for anyone to seriously care.

Kieran Roake wasn't a lonely kid or anything, but he just didn't have anyone that cared. Or anyone he cared for, at that matter.

So when his name was picked at the Reapings, he slowly ambled up, taking his time, watching the announcer's—Amy, was that her name?—face redden with rage at the amount of time he was taking.

Finally, after a good five minutes, a few annoyed peacekeepers, and a death threat from a raging pinkette, he found himself standing beside Amy, face turned to the crowd. Of course, no one could see him under the shadow of his hood, but that didn't mean he couldn't see them. Still, he kept the only thing they could see—his mouth, that was—still, uplifted slightly like he was bored. He wouldn't give the citizens the joy of seeing him freak out. He'd go out as the calm, annoying teen who'd just _appeared _one day, with the sole purpose of bugging everyone until their face turned red and they wished he'd just _disappear._

Well, wishes come true, don't they? He'd been chosen as the tribute for District Three, shipped off to die in the Chase Games. No more annoying Kieran Roarke hanging around the streets, no more Kieran Roarke right outside your door to mock you as you take a step outside for fresh air.

Kieran Roarke.

That was all they ever called him. Kieran Roarke. Not Kieran, not Roarke, but both of the words combined, like they were naming some disgusting thing they wished didn't plague their land.

Honestly, he started off joking, and people had laughed. But as the days ticked by—cold winters where he'd seek refuge in an abandoned alleyway, hot summers where he'd run around, throat parched from the dying heat of midsummer sun—they slowly became more and more intolerant. Gone were twinkling eyes and red mouths opened in mirth; to be replaced by furious shouting and the waving of household items/weapons in the air. He took it just a little too far, and now he was only some annoying little bug everyone did their best to avoid.

He tried, he really did, when he wandered into the land of District Three, to be liked, but he somehow ended up as one of the most disliked people in the whole district. Society was funny like that.

"So, Kieran, correct?" Amy's shining, red-lipped smile twitches slightly.

"Mmhmm." He doesn't bother to look at her, feeling her bristle up beside him.

"Is that all you're called? Tell me about yourself. What do your friends call you?" The poor girl is trying so hard to strike conversation, but with a million cameras on his face and a annoying preppy announcer next to him, Kieran really didn't feel inclined to answer.

"I dunno." He finally turns to face her, but he can see she's slightly creeped out by the cloak that covered everything but the small glint of a dagger, and a mocking mouth that seemed belonging to no one.

"What do your friends call you, miss pumpkin head?" He says back, biting the edge of his mouth at the rather weak insult. Still, it had effect.

A little more than he hoped for.

"Well, excuse me!" Amy snapped back, brown eyes rising with that annoyed look he was all too familiar with.

"We're done here!" Before he can even react, Amy basically salms the microphone down onto its holder, sharp heels digging into the brown tiles of the arena. She stalks over to the side exit, where the entrance to the sleek, black Serdin train was.

Kieran follows her as she storms off, a sly grin as he slides from place to place, making sure she's aware he's following. Finally, after they reached the entrance of the train and Amy was about a foot away from the stairs leading into the train, he appears opposite of her.

"Never thought drama queens like you existed." A calm remark, really, and not his best—what was wrong with him today? He couldn't quite muster up that spark of trouble that influenced his best insults.

Oh, right, maybe the fact he was about to board a train to die had something to do with it? Then again, you never knew.

Amy looks at him, mouth open as if wanting to speak. Then, she closes it and shakes her head around, pink pigtails waving in a circular motion as she gaps, as if unsure what to say.

"God, you're both impossible!" She finally forces out, along with a small, choked noise that he believed was either a dying whale imitation or a sob. He personally hoped for the first.

Amy's honey-brown eyes were raged, shiny as tears welled in them as she narrowed eyelids spotted with blue eyeshadow and knit thin eyebrows together. She screams meaningless words of frustration here and there, pausing to glare at him. Kieran stand there and lets her vent out everything, unsure what to do. He was kind of glad he had a hood covering most of his face, since he was unsure how he'd look right about now. Bad at emotional scenes, check. Something else to consider that he might be kind of not really socially awkward.

"Why can't you just let me do my job?" Amy's voice cracks midway and he desperately searches his brain for what he said earlier—it couldn't have been that bad, could it?

Amy sinks to the ground, back against the polished side of the train.

"Hey, it's okay—" He really isn't sure what to else to say, but he's heard that said a lot of times, so he tried it. Amy turned an angered, mascara-streaked face at him, and he gulped.

"No, it's not! What do you mean? It's not okay! You embarrassed me up there, and now you just tell me it's 'alright'? Nothing's 'alright'!" Amy shrieks back, and Kieran's beginning to think he should just hightail and run for some help, maybe the pink haired announcer has gone completely physco? He looks around for help, but nope, as luck would have it, he was completely alone with a sobbing, tempermental girl he barely knew. Gee.

As he knelt down to deal with Amy, out of the corner of his eye, he saw peacekeepers round the corner, heading towards their train. Nervously fingering the hilt of his dagger, he glanced between the peacekeepers' shadows to Amy, then back again. If they saw him and her here, they'd probably think something bad was going on. Sobbing girl in the corner, giant hooded guy looming over her. Not good. He didn't like his chances if it got violent either; He wasn't exactly skilled with the dagger hidden in the folds of his cloak, and he didn't fancy the idea of randomly throwing the dagger and hoping for the best. Add in his reputation, and it ended up with him lying in the slums with a bullet nested in his skull.

For whatever strange reason, the Gods decided to finally have some mercy, and instead of turning their way, the peacekeepers followed the path to the other trains and went through.

Kieran sank to the ground, relieved. He then stared at Amy. A little impulse told him to make fun of how ugly she appeared and dash inside the train, but in all his truth, she wasn't _that _bad looking, and that was a little mean to do. He slightly wondered why he hadn't run off already, like he'd do with any other person.

But perhaps it was the way Amy cried, without care or pride, just a raw, sobbing noise that made his heart wrench, or the guilt he couldn't shake, the small thought that maybe he'd caused her to be this upset. He'd seen how the other guy before him—Zeke Sieghart, he was called—had ruffled her fur the wrong way, but he honestly didn't expect her to be this upset.

Then it hit him. Maybe some people were a little more sensitive than others. And anyone, with the correct amount of insults and words, could break down.

"Err…"He began. Amy paused in her sobbing to look at him, puppy-brown eyes wide.

"Sorry?" The word feels forlon, betrayal on his tongue, and his tone is just slightly above a whisper.

Amy sniffed, watery eyes glaring. Then, finally, she stands up, a little wobby.

Kieran, who'd sank down to one knee, stayed there, feeling rather awkward as he watches Amy wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, causing mascara to rub all over her hand and face, some even in her hair. He briefly wondered if Amy's hair colour was natural or not, but clears his head as the other tribute, Sieghart, comes to the door of the train.

"Amy? I can't find the shower—" Sieghart paused, staring at the scene before him.

A weeping Amy, who was just beginning to smile, and a rather shady looking guy in a hooded cloak covering his whole body kneeling down on one knee. Kieran personally wanted to grab the nearest metal shield and slam his head down. He was causing a lot of…interesting scenes today, wasn't he?

"Who's this? The new tribute? Rather a shallow guy, if he's only just met you and now asks for your hand and purity in marriage." Sieghart grinned that famous Sieghart grin, which could mean two things: he approved, or was saving something for blackmail later on in life.

Kieran gaps at Sieghart for a while, not fully recovered from the seemingly bipolar adventures of Amy—who he only just met, and he was definitely not head-over-heels in love with or anything—but quickly recovers, his own sly grin making its way to his features.

"I should say the same of you. Upset I got the lady?" He stares at Siehghart, eyes cool and calm.

Sieghart wasn't a fool. He knew someone like himself when he saw it.

"Not really. Much better ones back in Serdin, y'know?"

Amy huffed indignantly.

"Silly, I doubt anyone will bother to look twice at a small boy from the districts. Much handsomer men in Serdin, y'know?" Kieran spoke back, eyes innocent and with his smile still plastered on his face.

"So you're the type that's into men, eh? Would never of guessed it." Sieghart snapped back.

"Your silly assumptions are only proof of how hard-headed you are."

"Guys, guys! Break it up," Amy stood between them, a pale, small hand on each shoulder, simple but lovely French-manicured nails resting calmly.

"My god, you look terrible." Kieran remarked offhandedly.

Amy smiled, quivering red lips rising faintly. "Thanks. Anyways, if you boys want to argue, do it inside. I'll go clear some things up with the cameras. Visiting hours begin soon." She smiled again, wider this time, and led them up to the train, pushing them inside.

"Stay." She commanded, wagging a finger as if scolding a pair of puppies.

As she left, Kieran found himself wondering. He looked at Zeke, who looked totally indifferent.

"So…Amy…interesting person, huh?"

Zeke looked at him strangely. "Yeah, I guess."

"I've never met a girl like her."

"Wait…" Zeke shook his head, looking at Kieran with bewildered eyes. "You can't honestly tell me you fell for her, right? I was kidding. Plus, we're tributes, so you can kiss all dreams of getting funky with Amy good-bye. You'll probably be dead before that came close to happening."

Kieran stared at Zeke, weirder out. "Of course not! I just meant, she's bipolar, that lady."

Zeke nodded, still staring at him a bit strangely. "Well, yeah. I'm gonna get ready for visiting hour. Crying love of my life, yeah?" The man tried to force a smile, but it didn't really come through right. Kieran only nodded, and the noble headed off.

Kieran decided it was for the best. Everyone all needed some time to sort out their feelings, anyways.

As for him, he wondered what feelings he had to 'sort out'. He didn't have anyone he cared for, or anyone that cared for him. He had no friends, no loves.

So what could he do now, as he watched people slowly shuffle in and out of Sieghart's room?

There was a difference.

Sieghart was the 'cool' type of cheeky, the male everyone looked up to and laughed whenever he made an insult.

He was rather the 'loser' type.

He really didn't care, but he did wish he'd stop unconsciously wishing for comfort sometimes.

* * *

_SDkasgkagdhg. I kinda rushed this really quickly because I needed to go to sleep and everything—I apologize for any mistakes I made. I'll look this over quickly and correct stuff tomorrow, but I just uploaded this for Puri, who's been very…err…faithful about me updating frequently. Either way, enjoy!  
I hope it wasn't too bad ^^"_

_…Until next time, then~._


	10. Lire

_...Oh my gosh someone pinch me I must be dreaming please—_

_50 reviews? Oh my god scream eeerkkkk. _

_Thank you all so, so much! I never imagined I'd make it to 50 reviews! Thank you, thank you! ; u ;_

_Seriously! What's it been? Two months since this story started? And 50 reviews already, ermaigehd. oAo I am not worthy! Thank you all so much for taking the time to review, to lighten up my day with a simple few words! Really, thank you! _

_Now brb as I go sing about my feels in a meadow of daises. ;u;_

_Notes:_

_-Ladmir is real in the Grand Chase storyline. He took care of Lire after their parents died. You can find info about him and Myrielle, Lire's childhood friend, on the GC wiki until the page "Eryuell Island". _

_-I apologize for all the skipping around time and everything! I honestly couldn't think of anything for Lire, and I needed to squish that scene with Elesis in somehow. ^^"_

_-I know that Lire seems a little bit OOC and whiny in this chapter ^^" Lire is going to be one of the main characters in DT, along with Arme, so there will be a lot of development. ^^"" _

**_Important Note:  
_**_I finally decided the arena for DT! It was quite hard to decide since I had a number of key factors and scenes I needed to happen, but I finally got it!  
Here's a little spoiler as a thank you! ^^ Please tell me what you think.  
It's just in planning, so some of it might change. ^^""  
It's a wide, endless forest that remains in total darkness because of the large number of trees and plants, that form a strange type of moss that blocks out the sun. Many plants exist in this forest, but they are either dead or poisonous. Mutts are out there as well; firefly hybrids that offer light, but are violent. Tributes have two choices: Kill your only light source, or offer a bit of flesh for some light._

_Edit: Oh gosh, I'm so embarrassed OTL"" I forgot to do the review replies cause I was so excited! How could I? _

_Review Replies~_

_Sirenyspoop: ._

_Puriyo: LOLwatno. I am not pro enough to teach you dem basics of pro which you already have pls.  
I didn't mean to make him adorable but okay llD. As long as people like it.  
LOLnopls. They are your BA creations.  
Wat work of god  
The only work of god I see is Perfection._

_WinterBarrows: LOL. Pls, too much praise /A/ cannothandleermaigehd. Ty ty ;u; That made my day!_

_Snowskeeper: /sips tea/ I say, today is an awfully cold day, is it not? The weather lately has been ridiculous. Oh, and do hurry with the bangers and mash, please.  
OhgodI've noideahowtobeBritishforgivem e-  
And what group of people? The Brits or the supermegafoxyawesomehot reviewers? :,D  
Pftt—Glad you enjoyed it! ^^  
LOL. No xD;; Actually, I changed it a bit. He'll be killing canon now, if you don't mind llD"" _

_Shinedown: LOLwhat-? Ty? ;u;  
LOL. Oh gosh xD; Would you really?  
/flopflopflopflop/ Hm?  
8D Yep! /shot  
NojkstahpitLunevisdon'tjokeaboutsomethinglikethat-  
OAO Stahp! /m/_

* * *

Chapter Nine: Lire

District Four, Elf.

At normal glances, it could be considered paradise-on-Earth, a place too beautiful and elegant for the greedy hands of Serdin. However, upon closer look, it was not that good of district at all. Everything has its dark side, and the supposedly angelic elves were no different.

Growing up, Lire was always the sheltered young lady, growing up in the comforting velvet cushions of the Eryuell Elven Corps Academy. As one of the most purebred elves in all the district, her family, the Eryuells, has always had strong connections all around, with a mansion for a house and many slaves—half-bloods—to serve them.

The young girl had grown up surrounded by educators and officials, busy, bearded men who rushed in and out of the house to meet with her older brother, Ladmir, and pausing to comment every time on how incredibly 'pureblood' her silky blonde hair was.

For everyone in District Four, purity of blood was all that mattered. Rank, reputation, job, friends, married life, it all depended on the amount of elf blood coursing through one's veins. Those who had a lot had it all, riches, luxuries, while those who had little had absolutely nothing.

District Four was land of the elves, but it was also land of suicides, where many took their life because of small amounts of elf blood born into their body. The district hardly paid attention to the murderous government of Serdin, but it had developed a system every bit as tyrannical.

However, many lived in ignorance, either unaware of the situation or unable to accept that the status of blood was responsible for death.

Lire Eryuell is a smart, bright young lady, but Lire has always been protected by her loving older brother.

Though, a sibling's love is not enough to protect against the steel rule of Serdin. On the day of the Reaping, Lire rose early, cloaked in a green dress of silk—a material that others could only dream of—sitting down to finish a scroll she started translating from Latin to German yesterday.

The elf female was calm, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Though it was the Reapings, a day that could drive someone insane, Lire wasn't worried in the least. Why should she be? They'd already bribed the announcer—a funky, cheerful girl with pink hair named Amy—with money, large coins of pure gold, so that Lire's name would only be entered once. Everyone was in their favour. Today was only any other day for the Eryuell family, the most wealthy household in all of District Four.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Lire Eryuell!" Amy's shrill voice calls into the microphone, a large, black one with vines of grapes fastened to curl around the ground, making it appear that the microphone was some unearthly dryad, a creature of nature, worshipped by the elves for their ability in nature as a spirit of the plants. The Reaping arena itself was shaped like a temple, golden columns holding up the wide roof that titled upwards, and with millions of composite bows on display. The composite bow was _the _weapon of all elven archers, a bow granted to only those who were considered true archers; in tune with Gaia herself were able to use this weapon. It was every elf's dream to become the next Nova, a being of light, a true blooded elf that protected District Four against enemy tides.

There hadn't been a Nova since the legendary Lire, who lived almost three hundred years ago, when the world was not yet formed into the Districts they were today, and dungeons existed, dangerous portals to places beyond imagination filled with gruesome monsters. Lire had started out as a normal elf—pureblood, of course—who'd joined the Elven Corps for a chance at greatness, and ended up as District Four's legendary saint. She'd been transferred to a new group called the Grand Chase, who had been created to defeat monsters and kill the Queen of Darkness. Along their travels, they'd gained power from experience, fights, and each other. Legend tells that they defeated the Queen of Darkness after a fierce battle, and headed off towards the New World, the land of the gods, Xenia, where they were never heard of again. Even heroes had limits when it came to facing gods.

Then, one day, the shattered remains of a composite bow washed up on the shore of District Four. The people had taken it as a sign that Lire was no longer of this world. And that a new nova had to be picked.

Sadly, no such thing happened. The Legend of Lire remained an inspirational story to young elven girls who wanted to join the corps, but only that. No one knows for sure what happened to Lire and the rest of the Grand Chase, but there are rumors of Xenia, the land beyond imagination, the land no one dared to wander into for fear of never coming out.

As Lire—the current one, who was named after the legend—stepped up to take a spot beside Amy in the white chair—a symbol of purity and good luck—she scans the crowd and locks eyes with Ladmir, who shuffles uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Why was he not volunteering?

The Elesis girl had volunteered for her younger brother. Why wasn't Ladmir doing the same?

Finally, after a good five minutes of eye contact and Lire's building rage, Ladmir looks to the ground, scanning his polished black shoes as if they were suddenly the most interesting things in the world.

Rage builds up in Lire, a horrible, choking feeling in her throat as the truth slowly dawns on her. She was going to die.

It comes like a giant weight, pressing onto her thin shoulders as the high priest walks forward, touching her forehead with fingers dipped in holy water. Her lips move and her vocal chords form sounds as answers to Amy's comments, but her mind is blank, unable to process the truth.

This wasn't fair.

This couldn't be fair.

How could she, an elf of the purest blood, be picked to be dropped into arena and laughed at while she strived for her life? Expected to murder people like a wild animal? Was blood rank nothing to the people of Serdin?

Her mind briefly flashes back to something she'd been told since she was a little girl: repeated again and again until it became influenced in her thoughts, her actions, her consciousness. The people, mortals, will never understand the true ways of the elves, and that was why half-blooded elves were considered tainted and dirty, not belonging in any race, not meant to exist. Only a genetic mistake that needed to be fixed.

So mortals couldn't understand. They couldn't understand just how important she was. Could she make them understand? They needed to understand. They couldn't afford to not understand.

She didn't realize she was shaking, but Amy had a tender finger on her shoulder, looking at her with a petite, concerned face. Lire shakes her head, then brushes Amy's fingers off, looking the other way while muttering a few words. This couldn't be happening. She was important. Too important for the Chase Games.

And she repeated those thoughts to herself, again and again, as she was guided by a concerned Amy towards the train heading for Serdin. As soon as she got on, brushing a few words of thanks and farewell, she headed into her room, closing herself in the privacy of silk bedsheets. She wouldn't fight in the Chase Games. She just wouldn't.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Ladmir came into her room, ignoring Lire's angry glare. Her eyes were red, the pillow in her hands glistening with tears, reflecting off the noon sun coming in from the window on her left.

"Don't trust the orange haired male," Was all he said, as he heads back out the door after a quick brush of her blonde hair, muttering about her genres of pureblood. His long robes sweep past her slippered feet, as he heads out the door.

"He's not pure."

_~Dangerous Times~_

Lire sat alone, staring at the plush, carpeted floor, wondering how such a rich room could feel so gloomy and ominous. She'd arrived in Serdin about two days ago, and the place was starting to feel like home.

A home where people were fed and prepped for future slaughter, yes.

Standing up, she casually dumps the pillow onto the memory foam mattress, and slides open the dark wood screen door, to step into the completely dark hallway.

Her bare feet make no sound as she slides across the polished floor, scouting the numerous doors for the one leading towards the kitchen. She needed something to drink to calm herself. Though she had been here for a few days—and met the other tributes—she still wasn't used to the massive amount of hallways and doors the tribute castle had.

The castle had once been the headquarters of the Grand Chase, but has since then hosted the thirty days of feasting and celebration before the Chase Games started.

She crept along many halls, taking random turns here and there, replying on instinct rather than memory to lead here towards the kitchen.

As she walked, she passed each tribute's room. Ignoring the room right of hers', where the orange-haired half-blood slept, she stared at the locked door of Kieran's room. The mysterious hooded guy hardly bothered others and mostly kept to himself, though he was one to make comments on anything and everything he could find to make fun of. She shuddered at memory of his rude comment about her hair, and continued on to Sieghart's room, where she imagined the man to be sleeping the night away. That seemed to be all Sieghart did—sleep, eat, sleep, eat, repeat. He really wasn't worried at all about the Chase Games. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the luxurious festivals and overwhelming amount of riches and goodies. Well, that was one guy who was going to die easily.

Continuing one, she passed Lass's room. The silent boy that no one knew about, really. They couldn't decide if he was mute, shy, scared, or just socially awkward. However, Lire had seen firsthand how well he was at handling daggers—or any kind of small knife, for that matter. She did not like the way he fingered the sharp knives, stabbing them here or there with a cruel, bored expression.

And next to Lass, there was Arme. A goner for sure, the short, physically weak girl was in bad mental state from witnessing her mother's death at the hands of the cruel peacekeepers from Two. She'd hardly spoken since, and if she did, they were mumbled words, shying away from large crowds and loud noises. Lire pited the girl—they all did, really, Arme's expression was just too shellshocked—until they remembered pity was what got you killed in the Games. Arme just might be faking it to gain sympathy, and, once she was in the arena, let all hell loose and win within the time range of a few days. Mages at full power were scary.

Either way, Arme was a oddity that everyone mostly steered clear from.

Next to Arme's room was Ronan Eurdon, the gentleman from District One who had been arrested a few days earlier, and still hadn't come back from questioning. His district partner, Elesis Sieghart, frequently voiced her wishes that Ronan Eurdon had already been killed, to which most of them just smiled politely and agreed. Elesis was not one someone wanted to fight with.

They were an odd bunch, yes, but as they waited for more tributes, they began to grow more and more comfortable with each other.

Finally, she went up to the first room, Elesis, where she stopped, noticing that the door was slightly open and light was coming from it. Before she could walk in, she heard a voice that made her freeze in her tracks.

"And that is your request, yes?"

The voice was chilling, calm yet deadly, like the black waters that flowed so smoothly on the surface but churned below, waiting for the right victim.

"Yes." Elesis's voice was grave. Lire imagined the redheaded female standing tall, mouth set in a grim line as she stared down the other speaker.

"So, in exchange for your services and loyalty, we will grant your request of allowing District Eight, Hunting, to have four tributes this year instead of two, as revenge for your parents' death. Do you swear on your word?"

_Don't do it! _Lire wanted to scream, but she found herself frozen there, knees shaking as she pressed her ear closer to listen.

"I give you my word." Elesis replied, voice unwavering. Lire gulped. Did Elesis have any idea what she was saying? This person was not something to be trusted!

There was a noise, like the sharp snap of the closing of a file.

"The Kanavan Project welcomes you, Elesis Sieghart."

_Kanavan Project? _Lire wondered.

"Just do what I asked for." Elesis's voice seemed so calm, so unlike her.

"Consider it done."

"Thank you, miss." That was a first. Elesis thanking someone?

"Please," There was a small click, which Lire recognized as a teleport scroll being activated. Her mind swam. But teleport scrolls were forbidden here!

"Call me Kaze'aze. Lady Kaze'aze." Two quick footsteps sounded, the high clicking, echoed noise of heels, and then there was the small, popping noise of a teleport finishing, and Lire sank to the ground with sweaty palms, breathing heavily. Something about that conversation wasn't right. She was pretty sure she shouldn't have heard it. What was Elesis doing? Two extra tributes? It was like Elesis was trying to get everyone killed. And what was the Kanavan Project?

Lire leaned against the wall, blonde hair falling limply down her back.

What in the world was going on with the Chase Games this year?

* * *

_SDgklasgkag Wow I am updating fast._

_8DDD Foreshadowing! 8DD._

_I honestly don't have anything else to say. xD;; Other than, thank you, again, for 50+ reviews! It amazes me that Dangerous Times made it to the front page of Grand Chase fanfiction rank in reviews in ONLY TWO MONTHS! That's amazing! Thank you so much! ^^ _

_Please R&R! ^^ _

_...Until next time, then~. _


	11. Ryan

_I don't know what was going on with me when I wrote this chapter, to be honest. I didn't write a handwritten draft beforehand, I just kinda opened word and winged it, so I apologize for any mistakes/rushed lines. xD;;_

_Wow 60+ reviews what. I love you guys :,D_

_The format is a little different for this one. I wanted to experiment. The only other time you'll see this kind of format is when a chapter is going to be pretty angsty. Just a heads-up!_

_Notes:_

_-Lian is Ryan's official sister. Check the wiki, his page._

_-I think, for this chapter, I was sort of aiming for something darker. For me, Ryan seemed all too happy-go-lucky for an elf that had the power of nature and was perfectly happy, then accidentally drinks water cursed by Kaze'aze and turns into a wolf, thus turning his life around. And I guess my mood was just kinda dark when this was written. XD;;_

_Review Replies: _

_Sirenysbaka: .I'm…er…glad you're so exicited?_

_Puriaho: ((What is with these anon names-))  
LOLno what is that wonder Shakespeare I kinda almost failed to understand llD  
LOLOLOLno stahp I'm not that pro you. ;u;_

_Guest/Snowskeeper: Oh, okay. xD I was a bit confused there because I thought it was you, but then again, one can never be too sure. xD;  
/begins eating with elegant manner  
You don't have to O u O  
llD Exactly!  
Ohohohoho~  
LOL. Thank you! ;u ;_

_hardcoreGSfan: Thank you very much! ;u; I'm glad you enjoy it so! ; u;_

_WinterBarrows: Thank you! ; u; I was actually a bit worried about making Lire OOC, so that sends my little authoring heart at rest. xD;; _

_I x3 Eggplant: Thank you very much! ; u;  
Oh no, it wasn't mean at all. Thanks! ^^  
As you can probably see, I've changed the summary. ^^ And wow, I'm really glad you think this little story good enough to share with your friends! ^^_

* * *

Chapter Ten: Ryan

* * *

_ "See that? That's the eyes of someone who's seen the darker parts of humanity."_

* * *

"Save her!" He shouts, desperately waving the strands of yellow up in the air. "Save her, please!" He repeats, mouth desperately open in a last plead as guards grab his arms and shove him out the door.

* * *

_Humans are much alike animals. Once one thought is stirred, others will follow, until we cannot tell the right from the wrong because of the illusion painted in our minds._

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beeeep.

He's never seen this kind of technology and he's not sure he likes it, but it's his best chance at saving Lian right now. Nothing else mattered to him but saving Lian. And he would do it at all costs.

Around him, doctors in white lab coats rush to the female, pushing the small, dirty orange-haired elf out of the way, not bothering to pay attention to the _thing _as they focus on the gasping patient between them.

"Heartbeat 47 and falling!"

"Charge to 200!"

_Shock._

"300!"

_Shock._

Silence.

_Thump._

_ Thump._

The slow heartbeat begins to increase, and he could feel the tears welling up in pure joy of knowing that Lian's alive, she's alive, and he doesn't care anymore as tears run down his cheeks as he kneels on the ground, face pressed upon the cold titles as he just thinks one thing to himself: She's alive, alive, _alive. _The word seems so good on his tongue and he just can't stop repeating it because she's alive, alive.

* * *

_I don't know death. That's what frightens me. Death is something no one explains to me._

* * *

They push him into the alleyway, as the boy raises trembling arms to block his face as the kicks begin.

They shout at him, whispering words of filth and worthlessness as they take no consideration in the boy's delicate bones and small weight. They just stomp on him, as if he was an ant, as if his life was barely worth that of an ant's. The boy sobs, he cries without shame, openly, hoping for someone, anyone to come rescue him. They continue throughout the night, smirking with each kick dealt and bruise formed.

At the early hours of 3:00 AM, a battered boy hauls himself home, curling up on the thin straw mat he calls a bed, and whimpers himself to sleep, imaging big, strong arms to hold him.

* * *

_I love walking in the rain because then no one can see my tears._

* * *

It's told in bits and parts, what the boy sees and what he can make from the haze of headache that seems to constantly burden him. He's lead into a small room, with elves dressed in mighty robes and with shining blonde hair. There's one that catches his eye—a sweet, pure looking little girl with blonde hair and big green eyes, much like his own—but he can barely focus on her, he needs to keep walking and put one foot in front of the other.

"I'm sorry," Is the first word he hears as he reaches the gold chair, eye level with the older elf. But does he mean it? The boy can't answer. His head is spinning—too much, just too much—to be able to make out what's real and what's not real. For all he knows, this could be a dream.

Was it a dream?

"For what?" He asks, green eyes dull and unfocused.

"Your sister."

And in that instant he understands what's happening, he knows what's happened to Lian, Lian, who he left behind in the medical room with the promise that she would be okay because of her hair colour—blonde, the symbol of a pureblood elf—is gone, gone, without him there to hear her final words or even to let her know he cared. And the thing was that they'd promised him she'd be okay, they'd do anything to make sure she was okay—

But he can't hate them. His head throbs, he can't understand, and there's this feeling of sadness that grips at his heart and just leads him into this neverending void of darkness, one that seems to shake his entire being, small shivers running up his spine, and before he knows it he can't take it anymore and silent tears are running down his cheeks. What will he do now? What can he do now?

* * *

_I don't like giving up on the world. I like to keep hope.  
But sometimes hope is impossible._

* * *

"Ryan Woodsguard!"

It's not a surprise to him when his name is called, but as he walks up on stage the world suddenly seems to blurr and he falls down, desperately clawing at the floor as words he can't make out anymore sound in alarm around him.

* * *

_They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Bad memories pass by, as quickly as nightmares, but good ones remain, floating down like gentle leaves stirred by a shimmering autumn's warm wind._

* * *

He was raised in the slums of District Four. Born and raised to a life of violence and crime that seemed to happen everywhere, without a care. Still, with the help of his gentle sister and many pitying elders, he was raised to a life of some education and, most importantly, hope. He never lost hope during times that seemed impossible, because hope was what made the world go around, or so his sister said. Many times, the young half-blood elf known as Ryan would sit, crossed-legged, on his straw mat, green eyes wide with wonder as Lian, his older sister, whose smile lit up the room and whose hair was as bright and yellow as the sun, explained to him all about the concept of the world and hope.

Hope was something that everyone needed to hold, no matter what. Abandoning hope meant abandoning the part of you needed to do something good with your life, because hope drove the same nerves in your brain that worked to help reach a goal or achieve an impossible goal. Whether it be love, a job, or peace, hope was the one thing that kept everything going. And he mustn't lose that hope, no matter what.

So no matter how much he was brought down, no matter how much he was teased for his bright orange hair, he always returned home smiling to a tired-looking Lian who smiled back and brought him up on her lap to tell him once again of the story of hope, how it made everyone and everything go on, if it was the smallest bird or even a resident of Serdin. Once, Ryan had reached up to tug the blonde strands of Lian's bangs, eyes wide.

"Lian, do pureblood elves have hope, too?"

Lian smiled. "Yes, they do." She replied without hesitation.

Ryan stared at her, mouth turned in a frown. "But how? Their evil!"

Lian smiled and hugged the body of her younger brother closer to her. "But Ryan, you must look at it from all perspectives before making a choice. In the pureblood elves' eyes, we are nothing but animals, and their hope is making a glorious place where everyone is pureblood, just like the old ways."

"But that's evil thinking!"

"Have you been listening to some of the teenagers again?" Lian glared at him suspiciously.

Ryan nodded no innocently, but Lian still sighed and laughed, squeezing Ryan closer.

"Listen, Ryan. I'm going to tell you a story."

Ryan nodded. He loved stories, especially if they had hidden meanings.

"Once upon a time, there was a place where everyone lived peacefully. Birds sang, flowers bloomed, and the people were happy with their beautiful lands and fair rulers."

Ryan's eyes widened as he recognized the story.

"In the far off lands of Elven Forest, there was a beautiful baby boy born to two adoring parents. He had hair as orange as the setting sun, with intelligent green eyes that seemed to light up anything he looked at. Now, this boy was not ordinary. As he grew, so did the nature's calling for him. The boy recognized this and, after some time, submitting to the luring voices. He packed, bid farewell to his parents, and set out on a journey to find the Grand Chase, so that he could protect the forest he loved so with the group of heroes.

"As the boy traveled he began to thirst. Stopping at a nearby stream, the boy had no idea of the dangers of the current world at war as he began to drink. He drank, bathed, and filled up his empty bottles.

"However, as he finished and lay down, content, he realized something was amiss as his head began to hurt. It throbbed, like a thousand tiny goblins were hammering into his skull."

Ryan laughed at the image, childish gee.

"However, when the boy woke up after a rather painful and restless sleep, he was shocked to find the furry clumps of fur that covered his skin, and how sharp his teeth felt. Staring at his reflection in the water, he realized he'd become something unheard of: A wolf!

"He was harshly abused by villagers and even his own parents for his 'talent'. They called him a freak of nature, something that shouldn't exist, something that was cursed, but you know what, Ryan?"

"What?" The boy asked back.

"He never gave up. He wanted to save the forest. When all else seemed impossible, there was one thing, and that one thing mattered, that kept him going. The forest. He needed to save it from the oncoming waves of monsters, and he'd do that no matter what.

"Eventually, after months of travel, he came upon the Grand Chase group. Though he was at first shy, he introduced himself to the group and they began to accept him as the days ticked on. Soon, he was known as the Protector of the Forest, a druid as great as the legendary Magnus Dan himself.

"When the time came to battle Kaze'aze, the boy was ready. He and his teammates fought their all, even managing to release another boy from the Queen of Darkness's control."

"Lass, the Silver Assassin," Ryan remembered.

Lian nodded. "Very much so."

"Either way," She continued. "After the boy and his friends won, they celebrated with food and drink, and the boy had the courage to ask one of his friends he'd always had an eye for on a date."

"Lire, the First Nova," Ryan spoke as if in a trance-like state, holding his breath at the story he'd been told so many times but always enjoyed.

Lian nodded, smiling gently. "The romance of him and Lire spread quickly, and soon the whole country loved them. The couple and their friends decided to take one last adventure together, into the Land of the Gods, Xenia."

"Where they were never heard of again." Ryan finished the story.

"Yes, but even in their last moments, they were full of hope. For the mission, for each other, for a better future."

Ryan drew in a breath and nodded, eyes marveling at this amazing story of a man who lived so long ago.

"And do you know who this boy was, Ryan?" Lian asked teasingly; Ryan always knew who he was, no matter how many times she did to trick him.

"Ryan, the Vanquisher, Protector of the Forest." Ryan repeated back at her, exactly how she'd said it when she first told him the story, so many years ago.

Lian smiled. "Very good. And don't ever forget the story of Ryan's hope and determination, Ryan. There's a reason you were named after him.

* * *

**_It's not the thought that scares me.  
It's knowing that she can die anytime, without any source of help because of the simple reason of money and failed technology.  
And I couldn't be there with her._**

* * *

He wakes in a room draped with silk curtains, confused.

"You had quite a fever." He jumps at the voice that sounds next to him, turning in alarm and wincing as a bolt of pain shoots up his head.

"Hey, calm down!" The stranger holds up his palms, then holds out a hand to Ryan.

"I'm Ronan. Ronan Eurdon."

Ryan glares back, before shaking hands. "Ryan."

Ronan stared at Ryan, before chuckling and coming to sit next to Ryan, both of them glazing at the window.

"So, you've seen it too?"

"Seen what?"

"The darker parts of humanity."

"What do you know about that?" Ryan felt instantly defensive.

Ronan was quiet. "Say, Ryan, do you know what waterboarding is?"

Ryan stared at him. "No."

"Then it's best you don't." Ronan stood up, and suddenly he didn't look like the cheerful, mature man he used to be. If one looked closely, there was an almost haunted look in his eyes, a small tremor to his hands, and by the way he kept looking around, ask if expecting something to attack him.

Ryan stared as Ronan made his way out, with an unbalanced gait.

"What's it?" He called after the older man.

"You'll know when the time comes. If they deem you a threat." Was all Ronan said to him.

* * *

_Wow this is kinda dark. _

_If you don't know what waterboarding is, it's basically tying someone to a plank while pouring water over their head, thus resulting in brain, heart failure and suffocation. Torture method. _

_I honestly don't know why this turned out so dark o_o" Well, DT is labeled under angst. xD;;; _

_As said before, the only other chapter (so far) that will have this format and be more angsty/gruesome will be Amy's chapter. 8D_

_.  
Wow it's like 1:00 AM  
Since when did it get this late—I'm sure when I stared the chapter it was still like 10:00- _

_…Until next time, then~. _


	12. Zero

_Woo! Last week until winter break for me, two weeks of absolute freedom from anything other than fanfiction writing and horseback riding! It's going to be so much fun!_

_Okay this will be a really long author's note. I'm sorry! But lately I've been developing the full, second plot of DT, and I felt the need to share with you guys. ^^_

_Either way, I'm planning to get really far with DT's whole second plot and everything. I've kinda planned it out and it's in parts now, which, since you all have been such wonderful, wonderful readers and reviewers, I'll give you a sneak peak! ^^ _

_Part I: Reaping  
Part II: 30 Days of Serdin  
Part III: Chase Games  
Part IV: Rebellion  
Part V: Ending_

_So yep. Those are all the parts! You'll know the difference from a part to part with the switch of chapter titles. Currently we're at Part I: Reaping, and there's still quite a ways to go. I really hope people will stick through all this madness and everything! ^^_

_Once again, thank you all so much for reading. 67 reviews? Ohmigosh! I seriously cannot thank you enough. ;u; I never thought a simple little story made on a whim like mine could get so far! ;u;_

_Other notes:_

_-Wow this chapter is kinda ironic considering Ryan's chapter was before this and it was all about hope and being happy and stuff. xD;;_

_-I've __**moved review replies to the bottom of the chapter **__to prevent author's notes from getting so long. Then again, my author notes are always really long =A=" Would you guys prefer I just stopped the author's notes and replied to reviews by PM, and all extra notes would just be added at the bottom of a chapter?_

_-Zero doesn't have his mask or Grandark yet as he receives it as part of the Games. _

_-No, Amy will not be the announcer for all of the Reapings. Only ones that the Kanavan Project take an interest in. _

_-Any Maplers out there? /Is planning a PhantomXAria series fic/ I can't believe there's not much PhantomXAria out there. ; n; Seriously! How can you not love the couple? So storybook and tragic. ;w;_

_-My version of Zero is probably different from other versions of Zero llD"" For me, I always saw him as this super genius that doesn't know about most of the obvious things of life you need to experience firsthand.  
Oh no, writing this Zero chapter makes me want to write even more fics about Zero. .v."_

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Zero

"Zero, you have to be the best. Listen to me. You are absolute. You are better than the rest. You mustn't forget that. You are my glorious creation, my son."

Those are the words the white haired male, Zero, had grown up with. It wasn't a secret to him that he wasn't like the rest of the children; he had never had a mother or father, and the only comforting childhood memory he has is of the cold, dark floor of the lab.

Zero Zephyrum is a creation. The only creation ever made to function normally in everyday society. In ways, he was no different than all the other children, but during sport completions, brain games and fights, everyone regarded him with a sense of amazement and fear. Zero had been programmed to be smart and athletic, to win in any type of situation. When new knowledge came out, Oz, his creator, simply opened Zero right up and installed the software. Zero was like a robot. A perfect robot. The very essence of perfection, more than anything a god could create.

Zero didn't mind. He wasn't programmed to feel fear, anger or pride. Oz had programmed him as the perfect being—responsible, respectful, and modest. There wasn't anything Zero was not. He was perfect. He was perfection.

But all of that never seemed to please Oz. The wizard was always searching, experimenting for a way to make Zero even better. Now that Zero was basically perfect, everyday society disgusted Oz and the man spent most his time inside, testing the chips in Zero's head, getting him to drink new forumlas—anything and everything to make Zero even better. OZ wasn't pleased and never would be—how could he create anything better if he had already set the line for the best?

And so the man slaved away every day, hoping, hoping for a miracle.

That hoped was a deadly thing.

It happened on a normal day, where Zero would rise from the simple bed he slept on, fold the bedsheets, and walk into Oz's lab to see his master hard at work. The male's bare feet made soft noises on the rather dusty wood.

Oz's house had once been magnificent, alive with servants and golden decorations. The newest technology docked the labs; the best of silk layered the couches.

On a day very much like this one, Oz had rushed out of his chamber, eyes frantic. The eyes of a wild, cornered animal, those who witnessed the events had said. He dismissed everyone in his charge and rushed outside, without bothering to grab even his cape, claiming the gods had spoken to him. He gathered the DNA samples of a human, an elf and a demon—where and how he'd gotten them no one had any idea—and shut himself away in his lab, working, working, working. Days passed where he hadn't bathed, ate or slept.

People grew worried for his health, but he did not answer to knocks or concerned cries. Eventually, people gave up. They called him the Mad Wizard, a once-great mastermind droven insane by his own mind.

Then, a small, white-haired male began to appear in the streets, with dull eyes and an almost mechanical voice. The boy did his daily errands and went to school—where he excelled at every subject—and, at the end of each day, headed back towards the direction of the mad wizard, Oz. People thought it strange, but their worries were mostly on feeding their own families. Plus, it was Oz, what could they do about it?

And slowly, slowly, the boy who called himself Zero began to fit in.

However, that was all destroyed the day Zero found Oz on the floor of his lab, curled up in the fetal position.

At first, the demon thought his owner was merely asleep. It wasn't unheard of to find Oz asleep anywhere; the man worked himself so much it was common for his body to just shut down and him to just sleep, so Zero simply picked Oz up, heading in the direction Oz's bedroom. Then he noticed the lack of breathing.

Zero frowned. People were supposed to breathe, right? It was such a obvious thing Oz forgot to teach Zero about it.

Zero shrugged. He wasn't stupid; he knew how to put two and two together. People probably just stopped breathing while they were sleeping. Giving chest muscles a rest or something.

He tucked Oz into bed, lifting the dusty duvet to cover Oz's thin frame. As Zero brushed Oz's hand, Zero frowned at how cold it was becoming—and fast, too. He touched Oz's forehead with the back of his hand. Cold.

That was rather strange. Did people's body heat cool when they were asleep too?

Something at the back of Zero's head ticked. He was missing something important about this whole matter, but he just didn't know what.

He shook his head and turned away. Human bodies were so different, so much unlike his own.

_~Dangerous Times~_

When Oz didn't wake the next day, or the day after that, Zero became slightly worried. Sure, Oz had weird sleeping habits. He'd go without sleep for a week, then stay in bed for another. However, he'd always rise at least once a day to check that Zero was intact and it was usually up to the demon to tell Oz to get back into bed.

Zero opened the fridge and was surprised to see many of the foods rotting. As a creation, he didn't have to eat, but Oz did. Then again…When was the last time Zero saw his master eat? Zero was sure it was in the two-to-three weeks timerange. He wasn't sure how often humans should eat, but he thought that, maybe, that long without food was just a little bit unhealthy.

He dug around, but nothing too edible came up. Zero looked around for other edible things_—_that aloe plant didn't look _that _hard to chew—and his eyes fell on Oz's staff, lying on the barely used diner table.

His lips twitched upwards—though he did not fully understand the concept of a smile, how was one supposed to connect that to the feeling of happiness?—as he remembered how most food was cooked by the summoning of a fire spirit, a few explosions, and a rather burnt meal as a result. His lips quivered as he stood, nostalgic of older times.

On impulse, Zero wandered over to Oz's room, clutching his staff tightly in one hand. He stroked the old man's forehead, frowning at how unnaturally _cold _the man seemed. Even to Zero, that didn't feel right.

The demon sat down on the floor and waited, dull yellow eyes staring at the still figure lying in the bed. Oz would have to wake sometime, sooner or later, right? Something flickered in the back of Zero's mind, like a piece of data he'd stored away and forgotten about. Something about tomorrow.

Tomorrow. What was it tomorrow? Oh, that was right. The Reaping, the day two tributes, uncaring of gender and age, would be chosen, shipped to Serdin to be fed like pigs for slaughter. On the last day, they'd be prepped for one last meal, a feast, really, then dropped into the arena to fight to the death. Problems—hunger, thirst, illness—arise, including some none of the tributes have witnessed before. It was a place of horrors, something everyone in District Four agreed not to speak of until the actual day.

Personally, Zero didn't see how big of a deal the whole Chase Games were. He wasn't worried about getting chosen in the least; why should he be? Even if he died, even if his head was smashed into a thousand tiny pieces, Oz would put him back together. As long as he had Oz, he was fearless. He could do anything, say anything, and it all didn't matter. Oz would always be there for him, to support his likes and dislikes, to take note on his manners of speech with that small notebook filled with crammed notes, and to call him into the lab with a cheered face and a potion or new mechanism to test.

That was the how life had been, and how it would always be. Despite Zero having 'no emotions', and only being a test subject, both the demons and the old man had come to grow used to life with each other as it was.

Around midnight, Zero fell asleep, head rested on the side of Oz's grand armchair, decorated with entwined golden streaks on bronzed wood.

_~Dangerous Times~_

It was the day of the Reaping, and Zero wandered the house like a lost little child. Oz should've woken up by now. Zero had no idea what to do, what to wear, and how to act on the day of the Reaping. He picked outside and shrank back as the sunlight hit his eyes, much too bright for a day of doom. Okay, no one was outside. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. What if the Reapings had already passed and he'd been spared another year? What if his name wasn't even in the Reaping bowl? Since Zero was an artificial being who would not age, how did he fit into the gender and age rules of the whole Chase Games tradition?

Zero raised a hand to his head, Oz's staff lying uselessly forgotten at his feet. He never knew living a human life could be so difficult.

Time passed slowly, and his keen, elf-like ears picked up the sound of footsteps, millions in unison as the children of the district paraded the streets towards the arena. Zero cracked open the door and slipped into the sea of heads, keeping a low profile. For some reason, he begun to feel rather nervous, an emotion he wasn't aware he had. The horrible, clammy feeling began to grow and grow as he headed deeper into the heart of the district, until everyone stepped onto the portal and was teleported to the Reaping arena.

It was a rather squishy place set in the chest of an old war machine from back in the olden days. It was dark and hallow, the place where nightmares seemed to form and spread. The only light provided was the glowing blue stones of Kounat drilled into the walls.

The darkness didn't bother Zero much, though it took its toll on some of the others. Glances were exchanged around, murmured conversations shared and even one nervous breakdown—that was instantly quieted by peacekeepers.

The bright flash of the teleporter glowed once as everyone craned their heads to get a better look at the announcer.

She was a pink haired girl that seemed greatly bothered by the lack of light in the dark room. Eyes followed her every step as she got onstage and waved to the crowd, honey-brown eyes nervously flickering back and forth at the unfathomable darkness.

"So," She laughs, though even Zero can tell it's obviously fake.

"District Five! Wow, time goes by fast! It was like only yesterday I remember watching the District One Reapings! Hello there, I'm Amy, your announcer! You might recognize me from District Three, but, please don't worry, I'm still here to give you one-hundred-and-four-percent!" Amy winked, and a few forced laughs from peacekeepers filled the air.

"Well, shall we get started then?" Amy cut to the chase, basically running to the Reaping table. It was clear she wanted to be done and out of the arena as fast as possible.

Without a second to spare, she dug her hand in and out of the bowl, a shaky smile plastered on her face to the audience. She opened the slip and reached the name, not bothering to give people time to prepare.

"Zero Zephyrum!"

There's silence all around, and said demon was a loss for words.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" A voice complains at the back, and since it's so absolutely dark, peacekeepers grit their teeth in annoyance as their unable to locate the speaker.

"Yeah!" A bunch of voices join in, complaining.

"Why?" Amy asks, long eyelashes blinking in a confused glace. She turns to the peacekeeper beside her and asks.

"Cause he's a _creation, _for god's sake! He'd win everything with his superman powers!"

The peacekeeper shoots the citizens an angry glare as hands push Zero up to Amy. The bewildered demon looks around, eyes confused. Amy reaches out a hand and hauls Zero onstage with surprising strength. She flashes a quick smile but speaks in a hushed tone.

"Zero, right?"

He nods.

"What a pleasure to meet you! As you probably know, I'm Amy," Before Zero can say anything in greeting, she continues. "Are you surprised that you've been picked as the tribute for District Five, Creation?"

He shook his head no once. Amy frowned, and he could see she was unhappy at his lack of words.

"Well, do you think you have what it takes to win?" Amy hands him the microphone, waiting for an answer.

Zero's vocal chords felt suddenly dried. He opened his mouth and stands there, gaping at a frustrated looking Amy, before shaking his head and speaking.

"I—I don't know," He isn't sure how to remember how to socialize—no matter the amount of data uploaded and updated in his head, nothing could compare to the real thing. Zero always preferred action to words, but that couldn't apply to this current situation.

"Why not? You're big, strong, and smart. Give some confidence for the sponsors out there!" Amy cheered, attempting to brighten up his mood.

Zero simply nodded, shifting from one foot to the other rather uncomfortably.

Amy seemed to notice this, and soon, she moved from him to calling the next tribute. A calm, blue-haired girl walks up to stand beside Zero, though he notices she keeps twirling her hair, one blue eye and one red eye glancing around uncomfortably. Zero tried not to stare, but that was rather difficult; why did she have two different eye colours?

In his amazement of the girl, he forgot that he was standing in the arena, about to head off to Serdin, later to be dropped into a pit to fight to the death. To be honest, maybe it wasn't that he forgot how to feel, rather that he didn't know how. The whole concept of attaching a word to be used when a certain feeling arises in one's chest was foreign to him. How exactly did that work?

Zero struggled, quite confused. Even in the dim light, he noticed people staring at him. Eyes floating from the dark mass, unleashed and not connected to anything. Zero had never been afraid—he wasn't even sure he was able to feel that emotion—but as of now, he felt something alike it. His eyes scanned the back of the crude, crusted walls, desperately wishing Oz was there to tell him what to do.

Oz. Why hadn't he come to see him?

At that moment, Zero felt confused. He'd never felt confused before, but now, here he was, having this horrible, _horrible _feeling of panic that rose up and began to choke him. What if Oz deemed him invaluable? What if Oz was ill?

As peacekeepers led them towards the train, Zero was dazed. Lost in a train of thought, he wandered, guided by a steady hand towards his tribute room. As he was left at the closed, polished door, he turned the golden doorknob and walked in.

"Hello, Zero. I've been waiting."

* * *

_Wow boring chapter._

_Review Replies:_

_Puriyo: LOLno—Oh gosh _" See, this is why I need a beta reader. xD I don't read my stuff before publishing and I usually end up making a lot of mistakes.  
Oh, can you give me the full line that the mistake was from? ;u; I searched but I can't find it…  
LOL. Thank you, I guess ;u; And no, your review was fine. llD._

_Snowskeeper: What—o_o" You mean the review replies? Sorry! Well, I've moved them down to the bottom here, so I hope that's better? ;u;  
Mmm. Thank you! ^^  
LOL. What-? xD;; Erm, I'm glad you think me important enough to mummify? xD;;_

_Shinedown: Thanks! ^^  
Oh my…Really, there's no need to apologize! We both have our point of views about different times depending on our past and personalities. There's really no need to! ^^""""  
And the hope thing really wasn't directed at anyone, just a little story to keep Ryan cheerful.  
LOlwhat? What pro? llD  
I know, I know xD;; His chapter's moving closer with each update!_

_Siredesusparkles: LOLOLomfg—Your name—Thanks? xD;;_

_HardcoreGSfan: Aw~ Thank you! ^^_

_Allissa: Thanks! ^^_

_WinterBarrows: Thank you so much! ;u; _


	13. Mari

**_If everyone would take time out of their day to read this, I would be forever thankful._**

_Today, I woke up early and headed to the kitchen like it was any other day. I had a piece of fruit for breakfast and was excited, because today was the last day before winter break. I imagined all the gifts I would get from friends, teachers._

_On the same day, at the same hour, my classmate lay on the hospital bed, dying._

_We received news of her death shortly after first period started. _

_I have to say that, personally, it crushed me a lot. She was a special needs student and some looked down on her, and I'm embarrassed to admit, even me. I regret that I had not taken the time to shake her hand, return her gentle smile, because the only memories she had of my friends and I were girls who turned their heads when she glanced our way._

_She died of cerebral palsy, so suddenly, right before Christmas. _

_I know that death happens around the world every day, including young deaths such as hers. And the people who knew her, though one was not popular, will remember her. I'll remember her. It's the least I can do._

_Death is not cool, it's not invited. It just happens, and it scars people. _

_RIP Komal._

_Other notes:_

_-I will be away for four days starting Monday, to Thursday. I am going snowboarding. Apologizes if I do not reply to PM's. _

_-I decided to make Mari have long hair in this. She might cut it later, though._

_-Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe Mari's red eye is on the left side. Anyone who has any official sources on which side is right, I would be very thankful._

_-Can anyone guess what the animal in Mari's dream was?_

_I present Mari's chapter. Merry early Christmas!_

* * *

Chapter Twelve- Mari

_ The musty scent of food gone bad. Limp, dirtied hair splashes onto her face as she runs, patched boots sinking into the muddy ground as she tears through branches, feeling twigs scrape at her skin, millions of tiny cuts starting to bleed. Her breath comes in ragged wisps as she continues darting through the trees, nothing but darkness ahead. The world spins and her dehydrated throat makes choking noises, small whimpers in a feeble attempt to call for help. She can feel the pound of small paws on the ground as they tackle her, glowing eyes, muzzle, _teeth, _as snarls erupt in her face and one sinks its teeth into her arm. She winces, face twisted with pain, but she can't find the strength to do much other than roll on her side as they tear apart her body limb by limb—legs, arms, torso, and finally, head. Her world goes dark and everything fades. The feel of the grass, the softly blowing wind, the chirp of birds. The shrill cry of satisfied animals rings into the air, the last noise that reaches her battered, chewed ears._

_ Hi-hi-hi-hi!_

She wakes suddenly, gasping, clutching the white sheets as she shakes long blue hair around in an attempt to clear her mind. The silken strands drape down her back as a soft click opens her bedroom door and a maid walks in, holding a tray layered with bread, juice, and an egg. The maid sets the tray down and looks at her, eyes worried.

"Miss Mari, are you alright?" The maid eyes her warily, hands fidgeting nervously.

Mari looks at the maid, but drops her glaze when the maid looks uncomfortable.

"I'm fine. Thank you very much." Her voice sounds strange to her—raspy and shaken, so much like that terrible day. That day with the bombs, the screaming, the blood, the _bodies—_

"Miss?" The maid's voice breaks through the unwanted memories, the only scene she could remember.

"You may go now," She dismisses the maid with a mutter, preferring to stare the other way and pretending to not notice the maid raise a hand to her head, and draw two circles, the sign she thought Mari was crazy.

Her breakfast lies unwanted on the bedside table. Mari stares at it with one dull eye—the blue, normal one that she could move at will—the other glowed as bright as ever, the strange red one that confused even the most learned of scientists.

Mari raises a hand to her eye, circling the red one around and around. Just how had she even gotten a strange wonder of the world? If it had not been for this interesting 'gift', would she be where she was now?

Her adoptive parents—two very successful scientists whom had not been able to bear child—adopted her not soon after the war, three days after the orphanage shut down due to lack of funds. She'd been found wandering the streets with her glaze straight ahead, as if searching for something, unaware of the rest of the world.

She'd come from one of the separated colonies of Serdin, the sole survivor of a once great land filled with magic and war machines, the desert land of Kounat. Apparently, she'd hid under a stone table when she'd heard the noise of Serdin destroying everything. When they set fire to her house, she'd crawled even deeper into the little hole of mud she'd made for herself from the pit underneath the dinner table—a fireplace of sorts that was used for hot-pots—as smoke curled all around and the burning smell of wood filled her nostrils.

When the rain came the next day, she'd crawled from the ruined rubble of her house; face and clothes sooted with ash, thin arms burnt, and ankle twisted.

She'd been found by some of the Serdin military, a squad lead by a young man called Harpe. She was coughing, shivering, one eye burned shut, the other—the blue one—wide with terror that would haunt her for the rest of the years. When they had asked her name and age, she simply stared, confused.

Harpe had taken her back into Serdin, where she was treated by some of the best doctors ever trained, curing any physical injuries. However, everyone knew that, beyond the bandages and Mari's shiny, soft new skin, the young girl was damaged beyond repair on the inside.

Perhaps that was why she couldn't remember anything. Perhaps that was why she kept forgetting everything. Perhaps that was why she had a book about her name, age, looks, personality, and life, that she had to read every day lest she forgot.

Mari clutched her head. Thinking about this—about _her—_didn't feel right. She couldn't remember anything, so all her thoughts, her being, her life, depended on what she was told was true and what she was told was not. She desperately wanted to know, she wanted to tell herself that her past was hers, not take a stranger's words and attach it to her person. It seemed that everyone knew about her before she did.

And she still didn't know.

Though she loved her parents and her life—very much so, thank you—she couldn't believe what they told her. About her past, her condition, even her own name. How could she trust if she did not know?

_My name is Mari Ming Onette. I'm fifteen years old. I'm from Kounat, where I was born into the Kounat Royal Family. If it had not been for Serdin I would be perfectly happy living in a place with no evils and no Chase Games. I have long blue hair, and two different coloured eyes. The doctor calls this 'heterochromia'. One eye is blue,and the other eye is red. This is also because of Serdin's attacks. Today is supposed to be a special event. Today is the Reaping. Two tributes will be picked for the Chase Games, an event that…_

She trails off on her own thoughts as she desperately searches through her brain. They told her what the Chase Games were, right? How could she forget something so important? A sheet of terror overcomes her as she realizes she's forgetting, she's forgetting and there's nothing to be done, her brain is just acting on its own and it's _forgetting—_

A rap on her door makes her jump up, clutching tan bedsheets with white knuckles.

"C-Come in," She says in a rather shaky voice.

The door opens to reveal her adoptive mother, a nice, tanned woman with brown hair glittering with golden streaks.

"Mother," Mari's eyebrows lift slightly in surprise.

"Hello, Mari," Her mother smiles and crosses the room, moving Mari's legs out of the way as she sits on the bed.

"Is there something you need?" Mari asks, ever polite.

Her mother shakes her head. "No, Mari. It's just…I wanted to see you one last time before…" She trails off, eyes not quite meeting Mari's.

"Before?" Mari inquired.

"The Reaping."

Mari bolted straight up. "I'm going?" She asked, eyes wide.

Her mother sighed and petted her legs. "Darling, the peacekeepers are angry. They say we can't keep you huddled up and protect you from the Chase Games forever. You need to attend."

Mari glanced around. The window was half open, letting in freeze morning wind. Velvet curtains lifted slightly from the incoming air, creating a small type of dance in the air before the window. She suddenly longed to grab the curtains and dance, dance the worries, the memories, away.

"So…I'll be going to the Reaping?" She can't shake the fright from her voice and she hates it, hates being reliant and pitited.

Her mother nods. "Don't worry, pet. Your name is only entered once. There's no way you'd ever be picked."

Mari nodded. If her mother said so, it must be so. After all, mother did know best.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Miss Mari, please calm down!" The Serdin attendant grabs Mari's arms from her head and stares at her in the eyes. Mari stares down at her hands, fists clenched with bits of blue hair. She can feel the scratches on her arm, her head, beginning to bleed. How did this happen?

She was called for the Reaping. Asked questions. Escorted up here. Her breath began to fade, and before she knew it, there was a dull ache in her head and attendants flanked all around her.

"What happened?" She rasps, voice dry.

"You had a panic attack, miss. There's nothing to worry about, now." The attendant sounds perfectly calm, not freaked like people back at District Five would be.

"Are you used to seeing this kind of thing?"

The attendant nodded absentmindedly.

Mari stands there in silence, as people pick up her arms, dust them with towels and wrap them up in bandages, all chatting away about the latest gossip like it's really no big deal. She marvels at how calm everyone seems, considering people thought Serdin were the wimps while they, the stronger.

Half an hour later, she's released from all the attendants and led down a hall to a tightly shut door. The room next to hers—Zero's, the other tribute—is wide open, making her wonder where the male wondered off to.

She's left at her door by a smiling attendant, who told her to call if anything went wrong.

She opens the door and heads inside, but stops, surprised at the sight inside.

There was Zero sitting on her bed, messy grey hair tied up in a ponytail with some leaking out at the back, dressed in comfortable wear. And next to him, a man, with red and golden armor, a large helmet with a wide, glowing ruby covering most his face.

And it's not the man's helmet that unnerves her; it's the flash of memories that courses through her head.

On the day. Of the fire.

There was another man.

A man in red and golden armor, screaming terribly, clawing at his burned, demolished face.

"Hello, Mari. My name is Baldinar of Kounat. I come on behalf of Queen Enna of Serdin, Lady Anyu, the Duchess, and Karina, The Queen Kaze'aze."

* * *

_Ksadlgklsdg. I'm so sorry this chapter was so short. X.X""_

_Review Replies~_

_Snowskeeper: Oh xD;; Yeah, they do! It's Sireny's reviews that make the page do that. I8  
LOL. Thank you! ^^  
Hmm…Impossible that is bad? I'll think on that!  
Yey! A Mapler! 8D Oh gosh, I know what you mean. My Dual Blade is just sitting there, unused. xD;; I'm waiting for Angelic Buster to come out!  
Oh, but you must play Phantom. I have a Phantom at third job—and though it's kinda weak—it's fun!_

_Sirenysbakasama: stahp with the names omfg—  
You. /pls_

_WinterBarrows: Oh! You're right! I am _so _sorry! The mistake has been fixed. ;u;  
Oh, thank you~ ^^ ButIkindaendedthisoneonaclif fhangertoo-:ming: _

_Puritotowhuuuuut: …I…I actually counted the number of 'u's to get your name right. xD;;  
Toto! /Deadman Wonderland pls  
Is it? I never thought that innocence could make something darker. Maybe it's cause of the whole Dead-Oz thing?  
LOL. I wish it was that easy. xD;  
Lolwhatproness—but yes, please do finish Heart Miracle! I want to read it. _

_He-jay: Really? I honestly wasn't aiming for the too innocent. xD;;_

_The Veteran Prince: Haha, thank you! ^^  
Oh yes, it will be split. ^^  
Thanks! I'll be sure to update soon! _


	14. Ley

_I'm back! 8D  
I apologize for not updating sooner. Lately all I've been doing is playing games and eating chocolates. Oh winter break you. _

_81 reviews?! Oh. My. Gosh. Peoplee ;u; I'm not worthy. /flails_

_Thank you everyone who took the time to read and write a small review! It really makes my day._

_Another little note: I talked some stuff over with Sirenys, whose sorta like my own little editor person I go to with all my story ideas xD;;  
Either way, together, we found a way to make things work and DT's plot now includes Klara Libri, the Soul Stone, Kounat, Arenas Hammer, and Kassias! ^^_

_-Lapis lazuli is a blue stone worn in ancient Egypt by rulers and gods._

_-Oh my gosh battle scenes. How write._

_Wow, a short author's note today. Either way, here's Ley's chapter!_

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Ley

"Hahh!" With the sharp ringing of metal and fearsome battle cries, the two demons clashed against each other. The black-haired one with the rake hand—a gladiator from the Burning Canyon tribe—dodged swiftly to the side, relying on tricks and slips to make up for his smaller size. The other, a big, beefy demon from the Crimson River tribe, smashed into the side wall, but stood up, unbothered. He readied his charge again, using muscles, big horns and wings to take control and fight again and again.

As they grappled for power, the demon from Crimson River smashed his opponent down, making the cement crack and pillars shake. A great cheer went up as the smaller demon failed to get up, and the announcer deemed the win to the Crimson River tribe.

Up above. In the viewer's box, a young lady shrieked with cruel laughter.

"Another win against Burning Canyon!" She exclaimed, face shining with evil glee. "Oh, I'd pay to see the look on Dio's face right now!"

She glanced towards the opposite of the arena, where the Burning Canyons' viewer box appeared to be empty. She chuckled and turned back to the man standing on her right, a towel fixed over his left arm.

"Jeeves," Her green eyes sparked with evil intent. "Don't you think that coward, Dio Burning Canyon, is running away with his tail between his legs right now?"

Jeeves nodded, knowing better than to reason with the girl's twisted happiness.

"Yes, miss Ley."

Ley laughed again, crossing her legs as she floated slightly in the air.

"That's, what? Seven wins in a row? It seems that Burning Canyon's sinking under Dio's rule! Maybe, once I get to the throne, I'll take over the place and set some better examples in!"

"If you do, miss Ley. You must not forget that the two tribes have a current peace treaty, one both your and Dio's father worked hard to make. Do you want to ruin that shall you step up to rule, my lady?"

"_When _I step up to rule, Jeeves," Ley corrected, ignoring the latter part of her butler's statement.

"My lady—" Jeeves started to speak again, only to be interrupted.

"Jeeves, we've talked about this before. Though my father does not appear to like the idea, I will rule, female or male. Gender does not matter as long as I can control the troops and head for battle, and you both know I can do that fully well. End of conversation, Jeeves."

As Ley turned back to watch the new set of gladiators, Jeeves sighed and patted the towel on his arm. "Please be careful with that confidence, my lady," He muttered, though if Ley had heard, she showed no such reaction.

"The world has been so peaceful lately, Jeeves. Gladiators are the only form of entertainment left," After a few minutes of silence, Ley spoke again, gaze still fixed on the fighting demons.

"My lady, with all due respect, you could always head to the front lines of the war with Serdin. I'm sure your father would be delighted to have you there."

"And listen to his battle plans all day long? No, Jeeves. I thought you were smarter than to suggest something like _that. _You're just acting like Dio, now," Ley sniffs, looking disgusted at the name.

"My apologizes, miss. Though, do not feel too badly of young Burning Canyon. You father wishes you two get along and take over the war after his retirement. After all, you are the heirs of the strongest two demon tribes at the current moment. My personal suggestion is that you get closer to him."

"And why's that?"

"If you two end up fighting so much as you usually do, you'll end up causing the downfall of the tribe. Do you want to be remembered as the only female ruler and the ruler that caused the downfall of the tribe?"

Ley nearly dropped to the ground. She'd always imagined ruling the tribe to be easy, a job that fell into her lap. She'd never once considered the failures because she was just so much _better, _better than all the other weak rulers that never made their mark in history. She'd pampered herself on the thoughts that she'd be absolute and loved, ruling with an iron fist while luxuries were presented to her taste. After all, she was Ley von Crimson River, the daughter of the great Peter von Crimson River. All she did all day was spoil herself in her father's riches and order slaves, maids, and even generals around to get a taste of what it would be like to be _king. _King, not queen.

She needed to prove the rebels wrong. She was positive she could slow them that she would be every bit as great—if not even better—than a male.

"Of course not!" She exclaimed hastily. "Jeeves, do not even say anything like that again! I forbid you to doubt my choices!"

"Yes, miss Ley," Jeeves sighed and looked away from his pouting mistress, sighing inwardly.

Ley scoffed and floated out the room, mood ruined. Heading right, she decided to go bug Dio, the new chief of the Burning Canyon tribe.

Ever since his father died in battle at the hands of Serdin—the ultimate insult, a demon to be killed but mere humans—Dio Burning Canyon had taken up the role of chief. Young and inexperienced, Dio had a great weight dropped onto his shoulders, along with quite a bit of stress.

Which was why Ley had taken it upon herself to make everyday life even harder for Dio. It was her own little way of expressing her feelings towards her enemy since childhood.

They were so alike; both rich, both heirs, both spoiled. Their fathers had introduced the young demons to one another with the grand image of a red wedding, creating a united, powerful tribe, where Dio would rule absolute and Ley standing as his wife.

However, Ley had another plan. Dio was too weak, too easily moved to rule properly. She, on the other hand, had been violent, a strong, stubborn fighter since she was born. She'd always had a thrill for power and battle, the feeling rushing through her veins as she crushed enemy skulls in her palm and ordered lowly slaves to whippings. Fearless and desired, she was the perfect ruler, unlike Dio, who was actually open to the musings of his people. Ley knew that his thinking would lead to his downfall, and instead of being there for him to help pick it up, Ley would snatch up the chance and lock Dio away in a small little prison to be mocked.

The difference between them was crystal clear. Dio believed destruction was only to be used when there was something to be gained. Ley believed in simply fighting. Bloodshed, death, terror, anger. Those were what she lived for, what she built her person and goals around. She lusted for a great empire, where her word was law and minor crimes were punished with rape, torture, and even death. Humiliation and pain. No mercy, no trial. As soon as someone went against her orders, they were dead. It was simply wonderful, the imagination of her future land.

Yet, somehow, she sometimes felt lost. Everyone believed Dio should rule. There were times she wanted to shout out no, no, _no, _Dio couldn't rule. He just couldn't. It'd lead to downfall and famine.

But somehow, none ever glanced her way when the subject came up. It was always Dio, Dio, Dio.

And that was only because he was male.

Personally, Ley felt females were much, much better at ruling and everyone who disagreed was narrow-minded and shallow. However, when she suggested the idea to her father, she'd been sent away in disgrace, with her father's hateful words ringing in her ears. Conceited, selfish, unfair, favoritism, wrong, he called it.

To Ley, he was the one that was wrong. Everyone was. She simply had a different point of view, a view that needed to be seen by others.

Every night, she went to bed assuring herself that, in the future, once the whole general confusion died down and she was given a chance to speak, people would see the angle she was coming from and support it.

Because they had to. She only had one shot at it, to convince her people that she was right. And she had full confidence they would see it, and worship her as their guiding light. After all, she had been born to play an important role in the course of history.

She wandered into Dio's private quarters, still deep in her musings. The demon chief lay on his bed, eyes closed.

"You," She plunked herself down from midair, landing on his legs.

"Ley," Dio winced and stared at her with cold red eyes. "Care to get off my legs?"

"Your gladiators," She ignored his latter statement. "Do you train them as clowns?"

Dio scoffed, putting his hand—the normal one, not the one that glowed blue, his rake hand, symbol of the Burning Canyons—over his eyes. He remained silent for a while, then spoke a serious, bitter tone.

"I hardly have time to eat. It has been a while since I've checked the gladiators' training system."

"So you did not see the outcome of the match today?" Ley felt a small slip of disappointment.

"No, but by your actions, I can guess."

"We won," Still sitting on Dio's legs, she crossed her own, checking her perfect, sharp nails.

Dio groaned, making a mental note to check on the gladiators later. Burning Canyon's reputation was already steadily decreasing, and he didn't need anything more to speed it up.

"So why have you been so uptight lately?" Ley asked the other, shifting slightly.

"Matters."

"That are?"

Dio laughed; a harsh, barking sound with a bitter half-smile. "Do you honestly think I'd spill out all my tribe's activity to another tribe?"

"Considering we're supposed to get married in a few years from now, yes," The sentence sounded wrong on her tongue, leaving a bitter taste. Married to Dio? No way. That was worse than a lifetime of poverty. No, it would _be _a lifetime of poverty. The guy was upright and penny-pinching, preferring the simple things instead of the overly fancy. She was to rule, not be some housewife sitting there and waiting for Dio to return from war. The thought made her momentarily shudder.

Dio grimaced and stared at her.

"I don't care if your father demands it, it's not happening. You can dream all you want."

His voice is dripping with venom, speaking in speaking in that slow, crude drawl that he had.

"What—me—" Ley spluttered. "In your dreams! I have no intention of getting married, much less to the likes of you!" She floated up into the air and huffed indignantly.

Dio sighed as the weight was removed from his legs. "Man, you've gotten fatter."

Ley slapped him.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"You could've at least used the hand _without_ your Ultima." Dio groaned as Ley dragged him out of the room, giddy with joy at the red welt she had made on Dio's cheek.

"Be glad I didn't fry your face off. Now, let's go for a walk," Ley hissed between smiles as she gripped and led him to the trail leading into the only forest in all of District Six, the Demon District.

"A walk," Dio repeated.

Ley nodded. "Are you growing senile now?"

"What did you drink this morning?" Dio sighed and rubbed the nape of his neck. "Unless it's forced for our 'engagement', you wouldn't even stand two feet near me. So what's with this sudden change in attitude? Someone spice your drink?" Dio was naturally suspicious. Ley was cunning and heartless, not likely to do peaceful things for pleasure, only for gain. He glared at her, not breaking their gaze. Ley blinked back, almost innocently, and he decided to wait and see when she offered no answer.

They headed into the forest, with nothing but the crunching of leaves under DIo's feet to accompany them. There were no animals in the place—it was more like a land of dead plants rather than a field of green trees bursting with life.

They walked deeper and deeper into the forest, Ley floating a few centimeters in front of him.

"Look, the forest is cool and all, but I need to be going back. Trust you to waste my time with a silly activity. Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow?"

Ley looked up at the bare branches. "Yeah, I suppose."

Right. Tomorrow was the yearly Reaping, the only time demons bowed down to Serdin.

District Six was quite different from the other districts. Instead of allowing Serdin to dominate and draw the tribute from random, citizens voted on the demon that was to go and fight. Normally, tributes were loners, outcasts with forgotten names, wishing to die rather than live. Of course, volunteers were accepted, and sometimes a gladiator would stand up to take another's place.

In the end, it call came down to reputation. How popular one was with the demon crowd cold either save or destroy a life.

Of course, Ley and Dio didn't have to worry about that. Both being children of tribe leaders, their reputation was high, amongst the richest nobles. The Reapings had almost become a game for the both of them. Who could dress up the flashiest, who knew the tribute chosen, and so on.

"Then let's go," Stonily-faced, Dio turned the other way and began walking.

He's surprised when a pair of arms snake around his waist, resting on his abs as Ley pushes him down to the ground, face-first.

"Ley! What—"He struggles, of course, but Ley put a finger on her lips, eyes urgent.

"Mary says someone's coming this way. Be grateful I decided to save your life. She says we don't want to mess with these people.

Dio just sighed. Trust Ley to pretend to be able to communicate with her pet dog.

"Are you sure? I can't sense anything."

"That's because you're not a dog and the newcomer isn't a demon. Now shush!"

"Yes, because humans can _totally _cross the borders at free will," Dio replies back with scorn, and Ley has to resist from slapping him again. Mary had an excellent nose and sense of aura, and Dio should be thankful she thought to have Mary follow them when she went into the forest. There was a certain feeling in the air, one that she didn't like much. It was like a dark little cloud of doom, certain trouble that settled in her heart and refused to let go.

On the far left side of the area, two figures could be seen approaching.

"Ha! See? I told you," Ley pointed to the figures and stared at Dio, gloating.

However, the demon chief didn't reply. He had a serious look on his face, one that Ley had never seen before. Sure, they'd fought, and most of the time, they'd been aiming to kill each other, but he'd never glared at anyone like _this. _

"What are they doing? This is Burning Canyon territory," Dio growled, making him appear like a frightened wild animal, ready to strike. Ley stared at Dio for a moment longer, before calming her slightly scattered nerves. Well, if Dio wanted a fight, he could have one. Ley would be perfectly content to watch. He was probably just being overly careful because he was the chief now. Ley didn't know Dio had the sense to be cautious, but she was surprised everyday.

Dio as a chief. It felt strange to remember that the whiny, crying little kid she always had the urge to kick when they were children was a chief now. No, she should've been the one to rule. She was better than Dio. Her father, her butlers, her maids, and even some of the slaves always told her that. It was a genetic fact that Crimson River demons were smarter, stronger, than the demons of Burning Canyon. So why had Dio inherited the throne before her?

Before she could ponder this any futher, the two approaching figures stopped. One of them—the female—sat down on a rock. Dio made a small noise in his throat, like a bird being choked, as he realized they were there to stay for a while.

Ley sighed and patted his shoulder, voice filled with fake cooing. "Aw, is Dio upset that the evil, evil woman is sitting on Burning Canyon territory? Did you forget to mark that piece of stone?"

Dio scoffed and pulled away from the sharp claws of Ley's weapon, the Ultmia. "I don't like the looks of those two."

"Why? Are you afraid of mere humans now?" Ley's voice returned to its sharp, sarcastic purring tones.

Dio merely grimaced and turned back to watching the pair.

The woman had long, green-blue hair, straight past her shoulders down to her knees, stopping with a very clean cut. Her green eyes glittered with playful teasing as she laughed and held the man's arm. She had a robust figure, clad in a beautiful baby-blue dress with a white petticoat trimmed with delicate lace golden lace that showered its way across the dress and onto a full, thin circle around her slender waist. She might've been mistaken for a simple priest passing by with her guard, had it not been for the fact her dark blue robes were lined with exquisite golden and turquoise trim. On her necklace—a large moonstone hanging from a dainty little chain—was the royal crest of Serdin. Thin bracelets of gold and lapis lazuli mixed so carefully together made their way up her arms, and silver rings set with magnificent rubies decorated her fingers. It took a while, but Ley finally placed her. She'd seen the woman on television before, except with a large crown on her head.

"Enna!" she jabbed Dio in the ribs. "The Queen of Serdin. What's she doing?"

"Shhh!" Dio merely hushed her, eyes focused on the scene.

Ley huffed. If Dio wanted to be that way, he could go ahead. Killjoy, much. Ley frowned, staring at Dio, who was so carefully watching the two he was slightly leaned forward. Had he always been _this _worrying?

Though Ley had known Dio since she was fully aware of her own consciousness, the female demon couldn't remember her and Dio's relationship over all the years. It seemed that he was always just _there, _someone she knew would always be just _there, _and never change. But she could notice some small changes, some new actions to his behaviour that—though Ley would never admit it—scared her. What if they were actually becoming somewhat close to friends? The very thought made bile rise in her throat.

"Hey, you alright?" Dio was staring at her.

Panic clouded Ley's mind. Since when did Dio worry for her?

"Of course. Why do you—" Before she could finish, Dio's rake hand—mind you, the one that was constantly stained with blood and god-knows-what—clamped over her mouth.

"Shh! They've began talking."

Ley rolled her eyes and muttered a few curses that would've fainted Jeeves, but otherwise kept silent and listened.

The two seemed to be having a great time together, as if they were enchanted by each other and forgetting they were currently flirting in the middle of demon territory.

"Oh Baldinar. You're so silly!" Enna, the Queen, laughed and swatted at the man's arm, one hand covering her mouth that was opened in mirth.

"I only speak the honourable truth, my lady," The man, Baldinar, was dressed in red-gold armor; a crimson background with gold vines curing around the chest and arms. A cape of the same shade was draped across his broad shoulders, signaling his authority. He wore a giant red helmet, one that had a large ruby across the front. Dio narrowed his eyes and Ley zeroed in on what the demon was wary of—the thin sword that hung at the man's waist. If things got violent, they probably wouldn't go without a fight.

Ley scoffed. Whatever. She was pretty sure they could take on a single knight and sissy queen. All demon children were required to have both physical and magical strength to match Serdin's best. After all, demons were far more superior to humans.

"Indded you do," The queen flushed as Baldinar smiled gently, and that's when Ley saw his lips. They were unusual, far too thin and…leathery?

To Ley's horror, she realized those _weren't _lips, not at all. They were some strange, makeshift covering created by Serdin's advanced technology and strange tastes.

Which begged the question—where were his lips? Surely citizens of Serdin weren't carzy enough to remove their _lips. _

"Why, of course," Baldinar placed a hand across the queen's, the ruby in his helmet twinkling.

The queen was silent for some time, and when she spoke she looked down, shoulders hunched forward. Ley winced at her bad posture. Did they teach the queen nothing? How could someone like her become queen?

"Baldinar, do you think my advisors would accept our relationship—" The queen spoke as suddenly as she had been interrupted.

"You're telling them?" Baldinar's voice hardened.

"Yes," The Queen looked down, pale hands clasped tightly together.

"My queen, you cannot—"

"Baldinar, I don't want to hide anything from my country. I put my trust in them as they do me."

"Are you sure about that?" Baldinar's voice was sharp and cutting, and the queen flinched.

"What do you mean?" She inquired politely.

"Enna, don't play. Surely you know by now."

"Know?" Enna inquired, wide sea blue eyes glazing at Baldinar, wondering at her lover's sudden change in attitude.

"About your country."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Enna replied back, dainty face flushing. "Baldinar, please stop. You're starting to frighten me."

"Frighten you?" The tone in Baldinar's voice is deadly, malicious. "Your country burned mine into the sea and you're sitting here, afraid of a few noises produced by my vocal chords?" The ruby flashes in hot, midday sun. "Enna, just give up already."

"I apologize for that," Enna's lovely big eyes were full and worried. "Give up what?" She's sinking back now, glancing around. "Baldinar, why did we come here? Why not one of the abandoned houses of Serdin?"

"Because I wanted to have a talk with you. Serdin is too dangerous of a place to go."

Enna stared at him, not believing. "And the forest of the demon district is much better than the streets of my city?"  
"You do not understand."

"Do not speak to as if I am a child!" Enna snapped. "Baldinar, you seen to forget that I am a _queen." _ Enna raised her chin and stared down at Baldinar.

"She's right, you know?" Still hiding in the bush, Dio whispered to her.

"Hm?" Not paying much attention and scoffing at Enna's suddenly show of 'power', Ley replied halfheartedly.

"People forget that you're a ruler sometimes."

"That's lovely," Ley was watching the other way, wondering if she could get away. She was missing her midday tea, and saw no point in playing spy with Dio when she could be watching her tribe's gladiators crush DIo's to the ground.

"Listen to me," Baldinar was saying. "You are not a queen when you cannot rule all the districts. And as for those advisors you trust so much, they hide everything from you. Do not call yourself a ruler," He hisses the last word out, and Ley feels Dio stiffen, his rake hand digging into the earth.

"I—I—" The queen stammered, gather up her skirts with a dazed, annoyed expression, she stood.

"Baldinar, this is ridiculous. Anyu is getting into your head," Her voice shakes slightly. "I thought that this could work. But it seems the knight is always most faithful to his mistress."

With that, she gave the man one last glare and spun on her heel, stumbling over a few rocks as she made her exit. Her thin frame shook with anger and confusion.

"District Eleven," Baldinar called after her.

"Excuse me?" Enna stopped.

"There's apparently reports of a new guy. A reaper. Everyone is convinced it's the end of the world, and that's why shipments from the Districts have stopped momentarily."

"I—I haven't heard anything about this,"

"Exactly. Your advisors, you call them, told you it was just a fault in the train that transported them correct? Have they told you about the recent murders in Twelve? The rebellions in Seven? Sexist actions in Eight? Famine in Ten?"

"You're lying," Enna's voice shakes.

"Am I, my dear?"

"Yes. You are."

"Then go on ahead and believe that."

"I shall. Goodbye, Baldinar."

With that, Enna stomped away, making small, sobbing noises as she walked away.

Just as Ley was about to give Dio a piece of her mind for making her waste her time, another woman stepped out.

Ley groaned. "Is this some sort of conspiracy?" She whispered to Dio.

Dio's wings fluttered, lifting off the ground twice before coming to a rest, a sure sign he was nervous. "No. No."

Ley stared at him. "Alright, alright, whatever. No conspiracy. Happy, Master Burning Canyon?"

"Stop talking," Again, Dio shushed her, and Ley smacked his arm. Hard.

"What's with you?" Annoyed, Dio pulled away, glaring at her with sharp red eyes.

"What do you mean what's wrong with _me?" _Ley's voice rises slightly, her pointed face screwed up in displeasure. "You've been acting weird all morning! And whenever I try to ask you about it, you—"

Dio dug the claws of his rake hand into her arm, making Ley bite her lip.

"Don't. Speak."

Dio glanced in the direction of Baldinar and the newcomer.

"Listen, Ley," He began, hand still gripping her arm tightly. "Once they finish talking, we'll ambush them. We can't afford to have them go back to Serdin after being in my territory. They might be collecting information for the war," He growls the last bit, not giving Ley time to answer as he shuffles away from her, ending the conversation.

Ley gathered her aching arm closer, glaring at Dio's back. Seriously, what was with him today?

Ley bit her lip as she remembered the strength Dio's grip had. It could easily break her arm.

Now, Ley wasn't delicate or anything, and she could hold her own in a match—even against Dio—but in the way Dio had held her arm was unnatural. It was almost like he'd gained superhuman powers overnight. Briefly, she wondered if the suddenly death of his father and his crowing as chief had some effect on him.

However, she dismissed the thought as soon as it'd entered. Dio honestly wouldn't be that affected. It was too unlike the demon.

"You went overboard," The female's voice is quiet, chilling. Though it was not more than a whisper, it seemed to ring around the forest, demanding absolute attention.

"Tsk," Baldinar didn't reply. He swung his head the other way and spat on the ground.

"You have to control your temper for that poor, poor dear."

The woman had purple ringlets that curled around her pointed face, downwards to her breast. She twisted one around her finger as bright red eyes scanned the area.

"Please. Since when did you care for the well-being of the Queen of Serdin?"

"I only want everything to end in peace," The woman smiled, but it was the complete opposite to her words. The smirk was cruel, twisted, as if she was imagining a small, violent fantasy.

"_Peace?" _Baldinar laughed, throwing back his head as a deep gwraff echoed from his chest. "You make me laugh, Karina."

"That is what I am here for, correct?" Though the words were meant to be cheerful and joking, Karina's tone was dark, bitter, self-hating. "I am only a jester."

"And you're unhappy because of that, aren't you?" Baldinar's tone was quiet, as if he was trying to pry something from a child.

"Who's to say?" Karina smiled a thin-lipped smile and turned the other way. "Are you planning to go to him today?" Changing the subject.

"Perhaps. Though I am not sure if he will cooperate." Baldinar nodded once.

"Show him the symbol of Kaze'aze and he shall." Karina sounded confident.

"Shall I reveal the project to him?"

"No. Not yet. Not until we have _that." _

"We?" Baldinar's voice shook with rage for a second before returning to its normal, cooling tone.

Karina turned to him, eyes glittering. "Of course. Baldinar honey, did you think you could have it all to yourself?"

Baldinar looked again and spat on the ground again.

"We're done here," He dismissed the conversation.

Karina nodded, another smirk on her face. "Fine. I will see you back at the castle."

"I will return with success."

"Make sure you do."

With that, the two departed. Karina stepped back as Baldinar drew his sword and pointed the tip down, forming a rough shape Ley did not realize. Was that a spell? She'd never seen it before.

"Now."

Dio rushed out, face deadly serious as he prepared his rake hand, glowing with blue fire.

The two stood there for a second before their minds clicked into what they were seeing. Karina grabbed Dio's arm and used it to propel herself the other way, landing right in front of where Ley was hidden. Baldinar raised his sword just in time as the claws of Dio's hand gripped across the blade.

"The mighty chieftain of the Burning Canyon tribe, Dio Burning Canyon," Baldinar recognized. "What an honour."

"I could crush your blade into two right here and now, unless you tell me why you're here."

"Now, now, don't be so cold. Last I remembered, you opposed Serdin as well, correct?"

"Are you possibly suggesting you are involved in a rebellion?" Dio's eyes narrowed.

"Answer me first," Baldinar smiled easily, as his sword and Dio's hand shook with tension, both trying to overpower the other.

"You are correct that my tribe is currently involved in a war against Serdin," Dio gritted his teeth, and Ley could see he wasn't willing to give even the slightest bit of information to them.

"Then perhaps we could come to an agreement," Baldinar's other hand shot out, gripping Dio's. "Release your fire and I shall sheath my sword."

"Not happening."

"Then it really is too bad."

Baldinar broke the contract; causing Dio to stumble forward from the amount of tension he was releasing to overpower Baldinar. Baldinar instantly teleported behind Dio and jabbed the demon in the back with the hilt of his sword, causing Dio to cough and spin around, eyes filled with deadly intent. Dio spread his wings, knocking Baldinar in the face. The knight scrubbed his eyes and Dio took this chance to power his rake hand, summoning his giant scythe. The scythe's blade curled around the man's body, but before it could cut, Baldinar's reflexes kicked in and his blade blocked the sharp pointed side of the scythe, as the curled point sliced into his back, leaving a large, bloody gash. Baldinar gripped the edge of his injury and leaned forward, clashing the ruby of his helmet against Dio's forehead. The demon howled in pain as a red welt formed and released the scythe slightly, causing the knight to slip away. Baldinar used his sword as a hook to knock Dio's scythe away, but the demon held on and Baldinar felt the sharp pain as one of his muscles twisted.

Ley watched the two men fight, feeling that familiar thrill of excitement rush up her spine as the joy of watching people fight, blood spill—

"Don't move."

The voice is behind her and she instantly places it; it's the Karina lady. The sharp blade of a small dagger is placed against her neck as she feels the female's long, delicate nail stroke her skin.

"Who are you?" Karina hisses.

"Should I grant the honour of answering you?"

"You will before I slice your neck into two."

"I'd like to see you try."

As she felt Karina's hand move to slice, Ley ducked and summoned Mary. A portal split out as Mary jumped out, jaws open. The dog bit Karina's hand as the woman dropped the dagger. Ley kicked her away, heels digging into stomach as she levitated into the open, where Dio and Baldinar fought neck to neck.

Karina found her footing, kicked Mary away, and growled at Ley.

"You'll regret that, you cocky brat."

"I doubt you'd call the princess of the Crimson River tribe that," Ley smiled. "Unless, of course, you want to die a very painful death."

Karina scoffed. "You demons think you're so great."

"It's not thinking if it's the truth."

"You think so high and mighty of yourself, don't you?" Karina's voice was bitter. Before Ley could reply, she dashed forward, dagger in hand, and kicked Ley's legs.

Ley caught herself in midair as spasms of pain shot up her leg, Pointing her Ultima down, she summoned a small black hole. The hole drew Karina towards it, where it grabbed the female's arm. There was a small popping noise, and Karina grimaced in pain as her arm shot straight out of her shoulder.

"You're pretty strong, I'll give you that," Karina breathed, holding her limp arm.

"Why thank you. You, on the other hand, should work on your skills," Ley taunted, holding her Ultima in the air as her fingers curled and uncurled, wisps of black curling around her palm.

"Don't be so quick to judge."

Swift as a feather, Karina began to run. Ley hovered above in the air, following Karina. The female jumped into the air and slashed, her dagger cutting upwards into Ley's arm.

And that was when it happened. As Dio threw Baldinar off him, there were two cracks. The crack of Baldinar's sword beginning to break, and the crack as Karina's dagger pierced Ley's Ultima and the female demon dropped to the ground.

Baldinar grimaced in annoyance as he swept up his cloak, turning on his heel and disappearing in the red sparks of teleportation spells. Meanwhile, Karina advanced on Ley, who lay helplessly on the ground, power destroyed along with the Ultima.

As Karina raised the dagger, much to Ley's disappointment, her eyes naturally closed as her face twisted up in fear, waiting for Karina's dagger to hit her skull.

It never came.

The clash of metal against forged iron made her look up to see Dio, easily clutching the point of Karina's dagger in his rake hand.

"Leave."

His face cold and bloodied, he commanded the word that rang across the field. Karina just smirked and drew back, the quick flash of fingers as she tucked the dagger back into her belt.

"Fine. I'll leave you alone this one thing. Though, next time, I'd suggest against bringing your girlfriend to the battlefield."

With that, Karina disappeared in a shower of dark sparkles, the crest of Serdin remaining as a glowing image as her body faded away.

Ley wanted to just curl up and die. She couldn't believe she'd been defeated in battle, and saved by Dio. That alone was humiliation enough. Add in the fact she'd have to explain, in detail, how her weapon was broken to the Crimson River blacksmith, and it was enough to make her give up on life. She just couldn't stand failure, pity, and worst of all, weakness. Having to rely on someone. Something she promised herself she would never do, but now she found she needed Dio if she was even to walk back to the tribe.

"Let's go. We'll have to report this," Dio doesn't even look at her as he starts walking away, leaving Ley to sit on the ground.

"What's wrong?" Dio stops and faces Ley as he notices the female demon still on the ground.

Ley grumbled and held up her arms. "Carry me."

"What?" Dio stared at her, eyes wide.

"You heard me. Carry me."

"I'm not your servant, Crimson River," Dio's tone is dry. "I'd like to get back and clean myself before the foul blood stains my vest. Stop wasting time."

Ley crossed her arms across her chest, feeling her ribs. "If you'd stop wasting time and just do as I say, it'd work a lot better," Her voice shakes slightly, and she hates it, hates the small whimpers that she's struggle to hold in, the tears staining the corners of her eyes now that she can't do anything but ask Dio, _beg _Dio.

Dio stops and eyes her, and Ley can see him thinking. Finally, he opens his mouth and begins to speak, and she wishes that she could just teleport, teleport out of there before he figured. But no, her lifeline, her Ultima, lay broken on the ground, useless.

"Don't tell me…" He paused. "You can't walk?"

Ley looked the other way, refusing to meet Dio's clear red eyes.

"It's just…been a long time since I practiced," She muttered, half hoping Dio didn't hear.

He did. And he laughed. An actual one, loud and ringing. Not mocking, but not innocent. It was between that perfect line of laughing _at _her and at the turn of events.

"You aren't serious,"

"I am," She glared at him.

"Fine, fine," Dio sighed and reached for her, gripping her around the waist. Ley thought he'd finally have some gentlemen genes when he cupped his arm under her legs, bridal style. Then slung her over his shoulder like a limp bag of potatoes.

"Ey!" She complained, pounding her fists on his back. Shards of broken Ultima stone flew around, as she watched the purple-pink stones and winced. That was going to take a while to fix.

"Don't argue. Or I dump you here and now."

Ley stayed silent as Dio walked across the forest, leaves scattering to make way for the demon's spiked shoes.

"Tomorrow's the Reaping," She said.

"Yes."

"I think I might skip it," Forming the words slowly, she watched the back of Dio's head for his reaction.

The demon didn't stop walking. "Alright."

"You aren't concerned about Serdin's anger?"

"No."

That was unusual, but Ley didn't ponder it any futher. As Dio carried her past the entrance gate—attracting quite a few glances from the guards—she was lost deep in thought about fixing the Ultima.

And telling her father about the whole matter.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Welcome to the annual Chase Games Reaping for District Six, Demon!"

The announcer opens sparkling blue lips as her green hair shakes around her unusually thin figure, and her orange eyes lined with shocking yellow eyeliner glittered with excitement.

At the Crimson River reserved seat, Ley sat with her hands tightly pinned in her lap. She felt bare, naked, without her Ultima, that she left behind with the blacksmith when her father called her out for her recklessness and demanded she head to the Reapings. She closed her eyes, long purple eyelashes forming a crescent shadow on her cheeks, as she remembered his very words. Headstrong, he called it, foolish and headstrong. She was too willed, too stubborn, something he disliked in her.

Personally, Ley found herself to be perfectly normal, thank you, and it was her father, Peter von Crimson River, that seemed to be wrong. Either way, she couldn't oppose things the way they were currently, but one day she'd make him see. That, or she'd kill him. Either one worked. She wasn't exactly attached to her dad, but as of now, she needed to be in his favour.

"So! All you lovely demons are gathered here today to find out who will be the lucky tributes to fight in the Chase Games! Are you excited?"

Ley could tell the announcer was expecting a cheer, but nothing happened. Some demons laughed snidely and others flexed their hands, making the announcer gulp nervously and laugh, obviously faking.

"Well, let's get to the point, shall we?"

Ley found herself wandering the sea of heads for someone she knew would be there as the representative for his tribe: Dio.

Her eyes locked on the chieftain's, who also seemed to be scanning the crowd. She saw his eyes widen slightly then drag away, and wondered what was with him.

"Miss Ley," The hushed whisper of a servant bringing a scroll to her sounded near her right, and she turned to find a demon slave kneeling down, hands raised upwards as a single scroll tied with golden string and stamped with a crest. As she took the note in her hands, she recognized the crest immediately.

Burning Canyon. What was Dio doing, sending her notes now?

"Alright!" The announcer clicked open a scroll of paper, and everyone gasped as they saw the crest on it: Crimson River.

That meant someone from the Crimson River tribe had been picked. Who?

All eyes turned to Dio, and the male shifted uncomfortably. Whoever it was, it was certainly voted on by the new chief of the Burning Canyon tribe; after all, the two were rivals, weren't they?

Ley unrolled the scroll and read the message. It was simple, but scratched deep into the parchment by a quill pressing too hard and shaky hand.

_I'm sorry._

"Ley von Crimson River!"

An outrage breaks out, as she hears her name and snaps her head up too suddenly—there's the sudden pain as whiplash occurs. Peter von Crimson River bursts through the palace doors, grabbing Dio by the collar and smashing the demon onto the pavement floor. Small cracks form as Dio coughs, trying to regain his breath as Peter's claws curl around his neck.

"You _bastard," _Peter snarls into his face as Ley stands up, awestruck.

Images—memories—flash through her mind, memories that she never knew she had, memories she considered nightmares. Of her and Dio meeting, of her and Dio fighting, up until yesterday, where he'd dragged her around on his shoulder.

Dio picked her as one of his choices.

She never expected that to happen. She never knew their play fighting went beyond childhood teasing. She never knew that Dio hated her that much, that much, enough to send her off to be killed.

It hurts, the realization that Dio took their little 'friendship' a lot more seriously, that he never considered it a relationship to begin with, that all along he had been thinking about her, the vain princess from the Crimson River tribe, as an enemy, that all his hateful words had been truth, that there had never been anything between them.

She'd been picked.

Dio suggested her.

She was going to die.

Those three lines run back and forth in her brain as she watches the scene before her with dazed eyes. Dio isn't resisting, isn't struggling or talking back. There's this understanding look of guilt on his face, as Peter completely closes off his windpipe and demons try to drag the enraged chief off the other.

"How could you?" Her own voice surprises her; shrill and ringing off the walls of the room. Peacekeepers grab her arm and drags her towards the train as the announcer tries to calm the frantic demons, but no, no, she's not going, she can't go, she needs to know why, why, _why, _Dio did such a thing, because honestly, she considered him maybe even a friend, and she never knew her actions and words affected the other so much, just so, so much, enough that he'd want her dead—

Peter—no, her father—is dragged off Dio—her friend, no, her enemy, no, something, something she doesn't know anymore, she doesn't want to know anymore—and rushed out the door as Ley is pushed into the train and locked away. She doesn't even get one last look at Dio, who is surrounded by his villagers, all looking at the red claw marks on their chief's neck and muttering about the barbarian tribe—her tribe, the tribe that she was supposed to rule—

It couldn't end like this.

Curling up on the chair, she sat there, unsure what to do. She couldn't cry. She never cried. But there was this sadness, this unexplainable sadness, that rested in her chest, choking her, refusing to let go of her beating heart, and she stared at her hand, how pitiful it looked without her Ultima, her only weapon, now long gone because she was never going to see it again, she'd be killed in the Chase Games, and no one would care.

No one at all.

She had once pondered who would miss her when she died. She assured herself that, for sure, her father would be heartbroken, Jeeves crazed with grief, her many servants and maids forever in mourning, and even Dio would be upset.

But she realized that she'd joked around, she'd teased and made fun of everyone one too many times.

Because she had just been kidding. And no one realized.

_~Dangerous Times~_

The raspy voice speaks, creaking and dry as if not used for years. A figure shifts as chapped lips form into a smile, and the rusted iron of a blade is stabbed into the ground. The male claps once to show his happiness as he stares at the one figure on the television. Pink hair, sharp green eyes.

"Edna," He breathes.

* * *

_Wow long chapter. Sorry about that._

_Review replies~_

_Sireeggtardsama: I can't—I don't—_

_Snowskeeper: Lolwhut—how the heck do you drop-kick the _floor? _/pats poor floor/  
Hmm…That seems interesting! I'll try my best to fit it in, but as you said, it kinda already applies to Oz, Zero's father figure. Though, I'll try!  
LOl. I honestly can't wait for Angelic Buster! I've been staying up to collect Tempest equip for her. It's going to be awesome~  
Hmm…Oh gosh, I honestly don't know, sorry! I'm not a big expert in the medical field and certainly not with amnesia…  
LOLyesu. Cliffhangers 8D. I love my cliffhangers and plot twists._

_Meranii: Thanks! ^^ And, oh, really, is it creepy? I honestly wasn't aiming for that. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can ease up a bit.  
Hmm…I think that Fiora would probably appear in parts I, II, and IV, but she won't have an official chapter since she's not a tribute. Sorry! _

_Shinedown: Oh! Yes! I'm so sorry. I get confused with words a lot…Either way, I'll be careful of that from now on!_

Err…Xion's chapter will come…soon? xD;

_WinterBarrows: Thank you very much! ;u;_

_Puriyo: What? Non ; m ; Toto is mine! I8  
I guess xD;; Never thought of it that way, though…I guess I don't think deep enough? xD;;  
OH gosh xD;; Yeah, I felt that chapter was a bit..blergh. Hopefully this one makes up for it, though!  
Thanks! ^^_

_hardcoreGSfan: Thanks very much! ^^  
Ohh, that sounds clever. Maybe I should start doing that! Everytime I reread a story I loved and reviewed on, I look at my review and feel so embarrassed cause fanfiction deleted the less than sign and it's just a bunch of '3's. _


	15. Dio

_Long time no update!  
A late happy new years to everyone! I hope you enjoyed the past year and stay with good health and spirit for 2013!  
And…I just wanted to take this moment to freak out. 90 reviews?! Oh my gosh. Thank you guys so much! It seemed like just yesterday when this was at forty, and now it's at ninety? Oh my gosh. _

_Some notes before I start this chapter:  
-On the wiki, there was really nothing about Dio's childhood and life beyond the war, so I just kinda opened word and let my imagination go wild.  
-Funniest thing is, Dio is my favourite Grand Chase boy, and the only one I absolutely fail at writing and playing. I call it the fangirl's curse! _

_With slight hesitation, I present Dio's chapter._

* * *

Chapter Fourteen- Dio

The sound of blades. The drip of limbs onto the blood stained floors. The sound of human suffering, children cries, ring into the air.

And yet, that is where he wants to be.

Not here, sitting on the fresh, rough material they spread over his bed to keep the soft, silken blanket from being stained.

He's waiting, waiting. Running the fingers of his left hand over the burlap, feeling the coarse material underneath his fingertips. He cherishes this moment, the feeling.

Without thinking, the small boy springs from the bed, running over to his dresser, the tall cabinet holding only a few items. A crystal glass vase shone in early morning light, reflecting multicoloured circles onto polished oak.

He remembers this gift. It's something Ley's mother gave him, three days before the female fell to an unknown sickness and died.

He treasures this gift. Though he does not like her daughter, Ley von Crimson River, he loved Ley's mother with all his heart. She was the mother he never had, a sane, caring and beautiful vassal for all his love.

And the tiny, fragile vase that he holds between two hands is all he has left of her.

He strokes the glass very, very carefully, because when Ley's mother had given it to him, she'd told him it was delicate and poked his nose in the annoying manner that made him flail with indignation. She'd held him in her arms and told him these gifts come from the heart and he could fill the vase up with whatever he liked, because it was his now.

Which of course, confused the little boy. Demons did not have hearts, how could they give something to each other when the root of the item given did not exist in the first place?

He still remembers the scene, clear as day. Ley's mother had frowned, biting her lip in that way she had—that way that Ley inherited and even Dio did sometimes, much to the annoyance of _his _mother—and carefully explained to him that one thing need not exist to be true.

Later, when the boy had run home to tell his mother, magenta hair flying in heated summer wind, he remembers how his mother had gently shook her head, gathered her son into her arms, and crushed his innocent beliefs.

_Dio, _she had said, _you were born to be a fearless prince, leading your people into combat. Wouldn't your troops laugh if they knew their captain still believed in tales for children?_

And the wide-eyed Dio had replied back with the simple statement that he was still just a child.

His mother had slapped him, straight across the cheek, as he felt a bruise begin to form.

_No, _she had told him, still holding his struggling little figure in her lap. _You are not just a child. Because you are a heir. Isn't that right, my little prince? _

The knock on his door wakes him from his memories, and Dio sets the vase ever-so-carefully back on top the dresser, and rushes to open the door.

He lifts the lock, and cracks it open, just a bit, and is pushed aside as his mother swings it open and waltzes in. She envelopes Dio into her arms, hugging him just a bit too tightly.

"My little prince has come of age!" She sings, rubbing her cold, make-up caked face against Dio's. The boy grumbles and his mother pinches his cheek, just a little too tightly as it turns bright red.

"Do stop that dear. You know how I feel about the mumbling."

"Yes mother," Dio says emotionlessly, because he has long learned emotions get him nowhere with his slightly insane mother.

"That's my little heir!" She smiles at him, but he's creeped out. He has never liked his mother's smile—it was too wanting, expecting, unlike Ley's mother's warm grin.

His mother stands up and claps her hands twice. The tribe doctor enters with the blacksmith and mage. They each hold their own tools of trade for this operation; the doctor, medical bandages and painkillers, which his mother looks at disapprovingly. The blacksmith, a little black box with the _hand _inside, and the mage, her great staff glowing with different colours and symbols.

Though DIo knows it's pointless, he still tries. Scrambling up the bed, slipping on the rough feel of burlap, he sits there, eyes wild with a child's absolute terror.

"Wait," He begs. "Can't this wait?"

His mother approaches him, eyes shining with crazy pleasure and tears of joy.

"But my dear," She coos, voice sticky sweet as her long fingernails grip deep into Dio's shoulders and forces the boy down, left arm pinned to the side.

"You are of age," She whispers into the child's ear, causing Dio to whimper pathetically and shut his eyes.

"Start now," He hears his mother command, and the soft unclicking of the box as the hand is taken out and the pressure of the memory foam mattress as the hand is placed beside his arm and the mage and doctor crowd in, measuring the lengths.

Dio wishes he could be anywhere but here. He'd lie beaten, bloody, starving, in the dungeons instead of being here right now.

And then it happens, so suddenly, without any preparation or warning. He feels the light tap as the mage's wooden staff touches his arm, and then it comes. Pain, the horrible, neverending pain that shoots up and down his person like a lightning bolt, a thousand times worse. He screams, a brutal, forced sound from the back of his throat because they are boiling his blood, boiling his arm, draining the life out of that one body part from the inside.

The rake hand. An item that all the citizens of the Burning Canyon tribe—his tribe, the tribe he would rule one day—were required to have. The process of attaching a rake hand to real flesh was difficult. All blood had to be drained from said part. Magic was then applied to force the iron hand onto the shrived part, merging skin and metal. It was painful, but required.

Rake hands were embed with stones of Kounat, allowing the user to unleash as much magical power they could convey without destroying their bodies.

The spell—the pain—increases, blue sparks flying out as Dio clenches and unclenches his remaining hand, sweat running down his face as his lip bleeds from biting into it so much. His voice is raspy, throat hurting, and he's too tired to even shiver as his mother takes his head into her lap, stroking the boy's mattered hair, brushing it away from his face as she looked down at him, that same, unnerving smile plastered onto her face.

Dio's world begins to grow dark as the clock strikes once. One hour. One hour they've been at this torture, and he can barely keep his vision straight.

It reduces to nothing but pain, and the last thing he _thinks _he feels is his mother leaning down to whisper into his ear, the strands of her magenta hair tickling his neck.

"Endure this, my little prince. After all, suffering is what makes a cruel, _wonderful _leader."

It's the last thing he wants to hear, another of his mother's 'murals', but the only thing that remains in his head as his vision rapidly spins out of control. He blinks twice, then succumbs to the luring darkness.

_~Dangerous Times~_

He isn't used to it. He doesn't like the thought that where his arm should be, his flesh, is replaced by something made from metal and magical stones, something he can't control very well yet.

DIo doesn't know how to feel. He doesn't feel powerful nor changed, despite the strict training and diet his mother put him on. He rarely gets a glimpse of the outside world now, because his mother fears the sunlight and wind would cause the rake hand to malfunction.

So Dio did all of his schoolwork and battle training in dark rooms lit by thin candles, squinting to figure out a math question or apply medicine to the large gashes on his chest.

Very often the hand backfired, injuring him. Yet whenever he tried to go to the healers' or call a doctor, his mother would magically show up, hair unknotted and face angry. She'd call for her maids to bring a bucket of water, and tell him to wash the wound only, because fresh, bleeding injuries were so-called signs of a bloodthirsty, strong ruler. Dio knew it was pointless to argue that fresh, bleeding, _infected _wounds would probably lead to his early death, because the woman was simply not right in the head.

So he winced as he splashed water onto the raw flesh, then got into bed and flipped around, because even though he was a demon, it still hurt, he could feel how much it hurt, making his muscles tense up, quivering with unreleased tension as another spasm went up and down his torso when he accidentally grazed the injury against the side of his bed.

Crouching down, hand instinctively protecting his newest wound, he takes a few seconds to breathe, to clear his head as the last of the pain ebbs away.

As soon as he can stand again, he walks over to the wooden cabinet—keeping away from sharp splinters—where the crystal vase stood , filled with fresh water he changed everyday to make sure the inside was as clear and beautiful as the outside.

With shaking fingers, he reached up to grab the vase, right hand—normal hand—first. He holds it between his thumb and index finger, by the long skinny mouth of the vase. Hesitantly, he reaches out the _thing_ that's known as his rake hand, and grabs the bottom.

As soon as the strange claws of the hand touched it, he knew he'd done something wrong. The rush of bittersweet memories spin through his head, knocking him off balance. Unleashing the power of the hand. Shattering the vase into pieces.

As broken glass and crystal rush down his hands, jutting deep stratches into Dio's fingers and wrist, Dio stared down at the shards of what used to be. He felt this strange, melancholy feeling on the pit of his stomach, a rotten sense that refused to go away. He felt hollow, empty, starved, as if he hadn't eaten in months.

And in that moment, DIo realized he just shattered all his happy, innocent memories as a child, threw away the only warmth and mother figure he had in his sad little life—Ley's mother.

She was gone now.

And Dio knew his mother was right; nothing would bring her back. He couldn't mope around and just hope.

He had to let go and live his life. Because he wasn't like all the other children. He was to rule an empire, the most powerful tribe, millions of demons.

Dio calmly walked over to the side of his bed and rang the bell, calling for assistance. His butler, Alfred, appeared, lugging with him a fat, whimpering servant known as Sebastian, someone he had never been found of.

"Yes, Lord Dio?" Alfred bowed, setting Sebastian on the ground in a rumpled heap and calmly folding a white towel—that, to Dio, seemed to appear out of nowhere—over his other arm.

"Clean this up," He gestured to the mess on the carpet, wincing slightly as he moved his injured arm.

Alfred's eyes flickered around the scene, but he did not question as he turned the other way.

"Sebastian, I will get the mop and garbage. You will tend to Lord Dio's arm. Now, hurry," Alfred gave his orders as he scrambled out the door, leaving a dazed Sebastian alone with Dio.

"Y-yes! Alfred!" The smaller demon called after the butler, but if Alfred had heard, he gave no indication as he continued on his way.

Turning back to Dio, Sebastian stepped forward. It was a tiny step, but Dio growled and stepped away. Turning the other way, he stared out the window and, out of the corner of his eye, saw Alfred return and begin cleaning with Sebastian.

He scoffed. Cleaning up his wound, please. Unless his mother died, that would never be allowed under her hawk-like eyes.

_~Dangerous Times~_

A few days later, Dio was told he was needed at his father's throne room. Pulling his clothes to appear less messy, he entered the room—shoved, more like, by the attendants—where his father was pacing back and forth nervously.

"Master, Prince Dio is here as you requested."

Dio inwardly groaned as the maid announced him and his father walked over, eyes bloodshot and tired.

"Your mother is dead."

The words come suddenly and so straightforward, that Dio is caught slightly off balance. His thoughts flail around before he catches himself and stares at his father incredulously.

"What?" His voice comes out slightly more shaky than intended.

"She threw herself out the window of her bedroom around midnight. Servants heard the crashing noise when she landed on the pavement and rushed to the scene, but they were too late. She crushed her skull."

There's something he can't quite place in his father's voice. It was a longing, the impatient snap that betrayed he desperately wanted to be doing something else than breaking the news of his wife's death to his son, whom he barely even saw.

Dio didn't think his father was the romantic type, so the demon was assured his father was not going to declare his neverending love for his deranged mother and chuck himself out the window. As far as Dio knew, the pair's marriage had been arranged and he had only been…_made _so there would be an heir incase anything happened. So why was his father so on edge?

Then, it hit him. Of course. How could be he so stupid to not realize it? The man didn't care about his mother's sudden death, not at all. He was only anxious to get back to the front lines of the war District Six was currently on, a squall over dominance between the demons and Serdin. Of course the all-mighty demon chief would want to hurry in to prove his battle ability.

"Understood," He speaks in a monotone, simply one-worded answer, bowing slightly as a sign of 'gratefulness' his father would take time out of his busy war campaign to inform Dio of his mother's death.

"Then you are dismissed."

Without so much of another glance between father and son, Dio turns to exit.

"Wait, boy,"

His father's sudden words make Dio freeze in his tracks. Had he done something to displease the chief?

As Dio turned to face his father, face stiff, the older man sighs and slumps down onto his chair. Suddenly, he didn't look like the ruthless chief of the Burning Canyon tribe, but rather a sick, lonely old man whose life was nothing but blood and battling.

Dio shook his head. No, that wasn't it at all. His father was nothing but a heartless, cruel man that never cared for anything but himself.

"As you are aware, your mother is now dead," His father continued.

_Yes, because you just told me minutes ago. Bastard. _Dio isn't sure why he feels the anger surging through him—he'd never been close to his mother. In fact, there were times he wished she was dead.

"That means, I am now your only living guardian," His father checks his dirt caked nails. So his dead mother was not more important than grime.

"Considering I spend every day outside of the palace, deep in action for our tribe,"—here he paused, looking proud and down at Dio, as if challenging the boy, asking him what he accomplished, sitting with senile old farts all day long—"I am well aware the risks are great. An enemy assassin could easily attempt to get me. Of course, I would sense any attack, but in any situation where I was critically injured, _you _would have to take over. I am well aware that you cannot bear such a tedious alone—"

Dio takes a step forward and snarls, an animal sound, red eyes focused on the vain man sitting in front of him.

Quickly, his father's guards push Dio back, but the man notices his son's aggression.

"Surely you are not planning to dethrone me, are you, my son?" His eyes narrow, the same cold stare that Dio's eyes have. "Your mother might've protected you with her 'prince' crap, but she's gone now and I am here. One step out of line, one attempt to betray me, and I'll ensure you will never see the light of another day again. The dungeons are awfully empty these days. Am I understood?"

Dio stands there, stiff.

"Am I understood?" His father repeats and Dio can see the man's patience growing thin.

Dio still stands there, looking almost bored. An eye flicker allows the younger to see his father's face heating up with rage and he snickers.

A few seconds—that drag on, seemingly like minutes, hours, days—pass before Dio gives his answer.

"Alright," The male replies, and excuses himself from the room, smirking.

"You're marrying Ley von Crimson River."

Eyes glowing with evil intent, his father allows the words to hang in the air, tempting Dio.

And the male takes the bait, turning with wide eyes to stare at the smirking other man.

"What?"

"You're marrying Ley von Crimson River," His father repeats. "The arrangement and papers have been made. The engagement ceremony will take place a week after the Reapings."

Dio blanched. Though the Reapings were far away, he knew how fast time could pass. He turned, nearly tripping, scurrying out of the room as Alfred and Sebastian ran after their master, Alfred trying to calm the male.

Engaged to Ley.

Dio wanted to scream and kill something. It just wasn't fair. He never had any say in this. He never had any say in anything.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Your father has been declared missing in action."

The stony-faced general that gives the news twitches slightly, and Dio knows something is wrong.

"I beg your pardon?" He sets the book down on the table and turns his attention to the general. Frowing, the demon waves to the seat opposite of him.

"Sit down, Duel."

The general complies and Dio excuses all other maids and servants, apart from Alfred. Taking the seat opposite Duel, Dio takes one glance before speaking with an almost gentle tone to his voice.

"What happened, Duel?"  
The other demon shook his head and muttered one word.

"Edna."

Dio's brow furrowed. "Where is she?"

"She was in charge of the caravan escorting your father," Duel buried his head in his arms. "When they attacked, she stood her ground. And paid the price."

Dio let the words hang in the air, looking at the grey-blue head of Duel.

"That bastard that calls himself your father escaped without a trace. He didn't even bother to call for medical needs!" Duel's anger pours from his voice, as the table shakes with his tremors.

Dio remained silent.

"What are you to do now?" Avoiding the loss of his girlfriend, Dio went to other matters and asked the general.

"Whatever you command, Lord Dio," Duel lifts his head, eyes tired. "I suppose search parties are needed. I'll get someone to gather up what scouters we can afford."

"I did not command anything of the sort," Dio said quietly.

Duel looked at him, surprised. "Then what are we to do?" He asked the male, brows knit tightly together.

"It's simple. I will have to marry Ley."

"Ley?"

"The princess of the Crimson River tribe."

"Oh, right, that little princess," Duel laughs, though it is shaky and half-forced. "How's she? Hot?"

Dio hesitated. Of course, he was a very healthy young man, but the idea of considering Ley, his childhood rival, hot, was something he'd prefer to not think about. Plus, Ley looked so eerily alike Edna it was almost creepy.

"Yeah, I suppose."

Duel whistled. "Then have your fun."

Dio snorted and shook his head. "Not likely."

"Master Dio," Alfred spoke, and though Duel stared at the butler strangely, Dio let him continue. Since Alfred had served him from childhood, the man was allowed more privileges than others.

"Why are you so eager to marry miss Ley now?"

Dio ran his fingers through his hair as both Duel and Alfred waited for an answer.

"I don't want to marry her. Not at all. But the tribe,"—Here, he coughed quietly and glared at the two men, as if waiting for a challenge—"_My _tribe, will be targeted during these times. It is the only way to secure backup. Rest assured, I will…dispose, of her, once the disgusting state my father has left the tribe in is fixed."

"Wait, does this mean you're…" Though Duel was an excellent fighter, he was often a loss at words when certain events took place.

Dio needed, a small smirk playing on his lips and sparkling light in his normally calm eyes.

Alfred momentarily shuddered, a small foreshadowing chill passing up his spine. The way Dio had acted, the glint in his ruby eyes…Alfred didn't like it. Not one bit.

Duel knelt down, and Alfred quickly followed.

"From this day on, my father is dead," Dio speaks almost expressionlessly, as if tending to an everyday chore. "I, Dio Burning Canyon, shall step up to replace him. The throne as chief now belongs to me."

Duel spoke, and Alfred echoed.

"Hail, Dio Burning Canyon, newest chief of the tribe of Burning Canyon. May long life and luck last during your reign."

_~Dangerous Times~_

The crowning ceremony proceeded the next day. It was a rather confusing affair, with a lot of the tribe against the idea Dio would rule. Most remained faithful to his father, glancing every now and then at the palace doors, expecting the old chief to burst through and declare the whole matter an outrage.

But Dio struck firm to his words and, whenever he was questioned, assured that his father was dead and no amount of wishing or hope would bring him back. DIo ruled with an iron fist, always with his advisors at his side and holding ceremonies where he had multiple citizens swear loyalty to him.

Soon, ugly rumors by rebellious nobles began to surface, and Dio found himself entwined in sticky webs of lies. Life went on, but there was a heavy feeling in Dio's heart as he realized that Burning Canyon was not improving in ways of life.

He met Ley again, too. The two were summoned into Crimson River's throne room, where her father, Peter von Crimson River, announced the news. Of course, Dio already knew, and he simply waved it off, but Ley appeared fresh to the news and retained a very shocked expression. Dio wondered how much more Peter von Crimson River had withheld from his spoiled daughter.

Whatever. He wasn't going to go around and stick his nose where he was unwanted. Crimson River's activity was of no interest to him, they would only end another branch in the great Burning Canyon empire, or so his advisors assured him.

For once, life seemed almost content.

_~Dangerous Times~_

But of course, tragedy followed soon after. On a mission to the borders of Burning Canyon territory, the general known as Duel of the Eclipse lost his mind.

The place was awfully close to where Edna had fallen, and Dio had his doubts at first. However, his advisors assured the chief that it had to be done. With all the war, someone was needed to watch the other borders, and Duel was a general. Generals in the Burning Canyon army could not be afraid of blood and murder, nor be haunted by past memories. Duel needed to put his job before mourning.

So Dio had sent the general to the place. Relying on his advisors' wise words, DIo gave Duel command of a tiny but elite force to make sure no intruders were trying to break in while the tribe was focused on Serdin.

To this day, Dio wouldn't understand what had 'awakened' Duel, so to speak. As soon as the general reached the place, he just broke. Broke, into a crying, raging mess as memories of that day invaded and took over. The general had turned on his own teammates, slashing, stabbing, murdering whatever he could see through blurred eyes.

When the squad hadn't returned in seven hours, Dio grew worried and lead another squad to the borders. If Duel was in trouble, they all were. The demon was one of the tribe's best fighers, even better than Dio, he hated to admit.

When they reached the scene, DIo nearly dropped to the ground when his wings froze at the sight. Bodies lay everywhere, the grass stained red, body parts strewn across the plain. And in the center was one radiating Duel, not in a good way.

The demon was soaked in crimson. Blood dripped off his nose, pointed to the ground. His messed hair curled around his sweaty forehead in a way that hid his eyes from the horrified demons.

Dio was never queasy, but seeing the scene, his stomach did a violent turn. Despite the warning glances, Dio hovered down and landed, walking to a few feet before Duel. The general gave no indication he was aware that Dio was even existent, much less approaching.

"Duel?" DIo called, coming to a stop.

No answer.

"Duel? What happened?" Dio tried again, this time a bit harsher than necessary.

It happened suddenly. Duel lunged forward and Dio stepped back, raising his rake hand just in time as the blade of Duel's sword, Eclipse, slashed down. Dio grunted from the force of the blow, and the other squad members were sent into a frenzy, some trying to drag Duel off Dio, some scanning the scene

With a gasp, Dio pushed Duel off and stared at the general, breathing heavily.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dio growls, clenching his rake hand, which had begun to glow with a faint red light.

"Lord Dio!" One of the squad demons noticed the light. "We can't afford to engage in battle right now! We must find and arrest the one that did this!" Frantically, he flailed towards a severed head lying on the ground near the demon's foot to express his sentence.

"We don't need to," Dio's voice comes out barely above a whisper, not even bothering to raise his gaze from the deathlock glare he and Duel were in.

"Sir?" one of the demons questioned.

"Here's right here!" Without a spare second, Dio rushed forward and summoned his scythe. The curved blade appeared in his hand, as his fist closed and he swung the blade around Duel's waist, trying to slice the other in two.

However, the material Duel's armor was made from blocked the hit and Dio cursed. Of course it would! To protect generals from vengeful traitors, he issued an order about a week ago that special armor, crafted from only the most expensive, hard material was to be made from all high-ranking warriors. Who knew it would be used against him?

DIo sighed. Everything he'd tried to do lately as a good thing had come to bite him back. Shaking his head, he prepared for another attack. This wasn't the time or place to lament on past choices. Plus, that wasn't a very demon thing to do, anyways.

As Duel rushed forward, Dio held up his arms. Eclipse slashed down, leaving a large, bloody mark from his collarbone, onto his arm, then back onto his stomach. Sharp pain took over as Dio bit his lip. He'd never won in a fight against Duel when he was using Eclipse. The sword was just too strong in a one-on-one fight. Which meant he needed to use tricks.

Dio took the chance to strike, slicing down. A blood gash appeared on Duel's stomach, cutting in an shaking line down and off, causing the red sash Duel wore to drop down. Duel stepped backwards and tripped, and Dio knocked Eclipse out of the demon's hands quickly.

He signaled to the other demons and they moved on, successfully bending Duel's arms behind his back. One summoned enchanted chains, and they bound Duel's arms together, the chains wrapping from his elbows to his wrists.

With a face devoid of emotion, DIo teleported the group back, where he prompty excused himself with the order of chaining Duel up in the dungeons to be dealt with later.

As he stormed the halls, various robed men appeared at his side.

"We heard about the events and we are glad to see you safe, my lord," One checked something off a clipboard and muttered halfheartedly.

"I thought you said he'd be okay," Dio growled.

"We assumed that, because of Duel's records in battle, he would be physically prepared. We had not thought to consider his mental state," Another answered, draping a fur-lined cloak across Dio's shoulders. "You should get that checked, my lord," He added, with a look at Dio's wound.

"Well, your job is to think of what's best. I lost a squad of fighters and the best general in the clan today. You're lucky I don't banish all of you here and now."

Shaking the robe off his shoulders, Dio stomped away, leaving shocked and slightly scared advisors in his wake.

"M-my lord!" They scrambled madly after him. "Please do forgive us, after all, everyone makes mistakes—"

"'Everyone' does not mean you," Dio snapped. "One 'mistake' of yours could kill troops, as seen today. If you make one more 'mistake', there will be consequences. Am I understood?"

The demons drew back to Dio's words, staring at the chief with newfound fear. Had he always seemed so...heartless, so alike the pervious chief?

"I will leave Duel's fate in your hands," Dio concluded. "I have no time for traitors."

"Well, my lord, yes, of course, we suggest…" The one with the clipboard spoke, scrambling around in both speech and walk. Another elbowed him in the ribs and took over.

"My lord, we have already discussed the matter."

"And?"

"We all agree it would be best if you banished Duel, sir. Though, in his current state, I'm not sure he would listen…" The advisor's brow furrowed.

Dio nodded. "Very well. Banishment it is."

He turned in the direction of his quarters. "Good day then. I'm assuming you have nothing else to discuss?"

"No, sir. Good day!"

Dio closed the doors and noticed Alfred standing alone, in the middle of the room.

"Lord Dio?" The butler questioned.

"What is it, Alfred?" Dio sat down, tired.

"Surely you are not so heartless that General Duel's betrayal does not bother you in the least," Alfred spoke with a gentle tone of understanding, one that rubbed Dio the wrong way.

"He is no longer a general Alfred. Dismiss the titles. And as for the event…" Dio paused, unsure how to place his words.

"It was bound to happen," He finished lamely.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Was it now?" He questioned.

When Dio offered no answer, the old butler continued.

"Or perhaps you have been believing in the wrong sources?"

"Are you daring to question my choice? You are here to serve, Alfred, not speak your mind."

"Of course not, Lord Dio. Would you like some tea?" Alfred quickly changed the subject and handed Dio a dainty teacup filled with fresh brewed tea.

As Dio gulped the liquid down and stared out the window, words, sentences, spoken by his advisors and Alfred's recent question mix together in his head, and he feels unsettled, as if there was something he should know, he would know, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't place it. He hated this feeling, but it seemed to haunt him nowadays.

_~Dangerous Times~ _

He paced the room, anxiety gnawing at his chest, his being. Scenes played through his mind, words, pictures, battles.

_"My lord, it is time to pick your choice for the Reaping."_

Clutching his head in his hands, he scratched at his hair, trying to clear the horrible, choking feeling in his chest, his heart.

_"Lord Dio, whom do you think you shall pick?"_

_ "I think a gladiator will do. I have no interest in these things."_

_ "If I may be so bold, may I suggest someone, my lord?"_

_ "I'm listening."_

_ "The princess of the Crimson River tribe, Ley von Crimson River, shall do nicely, no?"_

_ "Ley? Why her?"_

_ "Do not tell me you've developed feelings for the brat, my lord."_

_ DIo took a moment to think on this. What were his feelings for Ley? Surely, it wasn't love or anything, but he wasn't so hating to send her off into a deathmatch. _

_ "No, of course not," He realized the advisor was staring at him and hastily assured. _

_ "Then, she fits perfectly into the plan."_

_ "Which plan?"_

_ "Yours, of course! Making Burning Canyon magnificent again. IF you marry the victor of the Chase Games, your reputation is sure to skyrocket."_

_ "You are sure she will win?"_

_ "Sir, surely you have seen her skills. She is both a descent of Peter von Crimson River and the wielder of the Ultima. Who else has the power to match hers? No human, that's for sure." _

_ Dio thought about it. It seemed the odds were indeed in Ley's favour. _

_ "And she will have you, Lord Dio, sponsoring her. It is almost too easy!" The advisor chuckled gleefully._

_ Dio nodded. "You are reasonable. Ley von Crimson River it is."_

_ Without hesitation, he wrote the name down and sent the advisor on his way. Leaning back, Dio allowed himself a real, happy smile. Finally, things would go as he planned._

He hadn't known there would be intruders in the forest. He hadn't know they would be strong. He hadn't known Ley would break her Ultmia. And of course, it had to happen a day before the Reapings.

Sitting down on a chair, he glanced at the carpeted red floor. What was he to do now? It was too late to change his choice. And once Ley was picked, everyone would think him the main suspect.

He didn't know what to do anymore.

On sudden impulse, he jumped from the chair to sit before his writing desk. Taking out a sheet of parchment—that he wasn't aware he had, must be something leftover from his dad. That old man had a fetish for olden items.

His hand shaking, breath coming in gasps, he pressed the tip of a quill—also from his dad, how much money did he blow on these things?—to the surface and drew a line down. _I._

His heart thumped in his chest. What was this feeling? This unexplainable feeling that filled his heart—he found out many years later that yes, demon did have hearts, but no, they weren't as emotional as humans—weighing it down and moving on to choke his lungs. Dio knows for sure he's never felt this way before, so it worries him. Perhaps he should call the doctor?

His mother's words come back to him. _Don't be so quick to rely on medicine. You should be stronger than that._

But he's sure she meant physical hurting. Nobody ever mentioned anything about emotionally.

Right, that's because demons aren't supposed to hurt emotionally. It just didn't work. So why did he hurt?

His hand keeps writing as his mind wanders, and slowly, two words, from mismatched, shaky, uneven writing that would make his tutor shriek and faint from pure terror, form beneath the pen tip.

_I'm sorry._

He takes a minute to stare blankly at the page, before folding it into two, flipping it over and lifting a long, skinny candle from the cabinet. Lighting it, he held it over the parchment, allowing the wax to drop onto the surface. Briefly, he paused. Would it be easier to burn the message and attend the Reapings with a straight face, pretending that the whole matter didn't bother him in the least?

_No. _Some little voice in him says, and before he can stop himself, he presses his ring—the one with the Burning Canyon crest—onto the cooling wax, imprinting his seal on the note.

Folding the paper in his pocket, he sat down with his back to the door, waiting for the servants to announce the Reapings were starting.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Dio had dispatched the note to Ley, who, despite her earlier words, attended the Reapings, with a rather…lost? Hateful? _Scared? _expression on her face.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the servant scurrying to Ley, note in hand. He prayed—wait, no, demons don't pray—he _hoped _the demon would reach Ley before the announcer called the tributes. He was almost certain it would be Ley. Though every demon voted for the tribute, everyone knew it was hitched and only the tribe leaders' votes counted for the majority. People in Serdin had better things to do than sit around and count votes.

"So! All you lovely demons are gathered here today to find out who will be the lucky tributes to fight in the Chase Games! Are you excited?" Onstage, the announcer was desperately trying to get the mood light.\

Some crude laughs were made and the announcer faked a nervous smile before continuing on.

"Well, let's get to the point, shall we?"

Dio scanned the crowd, eyes coming to a rest on Ley. With a start, he realized she too was looking at him. He met her illuminated green glaze and immediately looked away, not wanting to face her.

"Alright!" The announcer clicked open the scroll stamped with the Crimson River crest. Dio's stomach did a violent turn as she opened the paper up and read.

It happened too suddenly. He turned to see Ley reading the note, and momentarily let out a sigh of relief. His apologize had just been made.

But was it enough?

"Ley von Crimson River!" The announcer shouted out, and the crowd splits into two. Demons from the Burning Canyon tribe look at Ley, smirks etched onto their faces. Ones from the Crimson River tribe look at Dio, every bit of their gazes radiating hate.

Before Dio can take this in, the door flings open and Ley's father, Peter von Crimson River, storms in, cloak sweeping the white marble floors.

And he grabs Dio by the collar, smashing the demon into the floor. Cracks form, the announcer lets out a surprised scream, and Dio coughs, because there's suddenly a hand at his neck, successfully cutting off his windpipe.

"You _bastard," _Peter's breath, smelling of mints, explodes on his face as the chief grips him tighter and snarls.

How the heck did he get here? Dio's head is spinning now, both from the turn of events and lack of oxygen. However, he doesn't struggle—he can't struggle—because there's this look in Peter von Crimson River's eyes, one that freezes Dio in his tracks.

His heart, pumping loudly in his ears, his lungs, desperately working, searching for air, Dio is bewildered by the emotion in Peter's eyes.

Love. Hate. Rage.

Anger, so strong, so free, so wild, that Dio is confused. For a moment, it's like time has frozen and there was no one but him and Peter. Two chiefs, one father and one son, similar but so different.

_Why? _Dio wants to scream. _Why do you care for your daughter, so much to disobey the will of Serdin and attack me, right here and now? Why do you love her enough to do that?_

For Dio, who has never known a parent's love, it's something new to him, something frightening. The thought that a parent could love their child enough to put themselves in dangerous…It's so new, so foolish. And something he desperately wants.

He wants this to be in reverse. He wants to be the tribute, to have _his _father attack Crimson River for picking him. But deep down, he knows, and always will know, that sort of thing was impossible.

Everything comes rushing back and he chokes, opening his mouth to this raw, needing sound. Finally, Peter von Crimson River is dragged off him as Ley screams.

"How could you?"

And those words are like daggers, etching deep into his chest, and the world again freezes as he recognizes the emotions in her voice.

It's his own voice, reflected in every last tone, something he has demanded of his father so many times. How could you consider me too young to know? How could you ban me from seeing Ley's mother? How could you not love me the way a regular parent should love a child?

And those words, used back at him, makes this wild flow of emotions, running rampant though his chest. Then, a horrid thought occurs to him. Was he so alike his father that Ley needed to use the words he used when he was younger?

Normally, Dio would wave off these thoughts as crazy talk. But nothing was normal about this situation, and Dio was just so confused that he believed it.

As Ley was escorted towards the Serdin train, and Peter dragged away, Dio began to panic.

He really was like his father. Heartless, good for nothing, scum. Why? How had this happened? At what point in life had he begun to think of people as worthless and only part of a master plan?

He had his father's blood running through his veins, and he would follow in that cur's footsteps.

All of a sudden, he remembers something so long ago, that he thought he forgot forever. And he knows what to do.

_"Aunty, do people really take after their parents, because of the blood running in their veins?"_

_ Little Dio, eyes wide, staring up at the smiling face of Ley's mother, had asked._

_ The woman took a moment to consider the boy's question, and Dio felt so grown up that she took his wonderings seriously. _

_ "Perhaps, little one. In the end, it all comes down to your choices in life."_

_ She smiled that lovely smile down at him, and DIo hugged her waist._

_ "I don't think it's true," The boy stated._

_ "Why not?"_

_ "Because Ley is too mean to become someone as nice as you!" The boy wrinkled his nose._

_ The woman laughed, a noise that was heaven to Dio's ears. He loved making her laugh._

_ "Now, now. Don't say that. You never know what you'll do or become in the future, after all." _

_ Dio looked up at her. _

_ "Well, I don't want to become like my mom or dad," The boy said quietly._

_ The female was silent, letting the boy finish._

_ "I'd kill myself if that ever happens." _

_ Dio's face was unusally grim for a boy so young._

_ She stroked his hair. "Now, now," Was all she could think of to say. _

_ They sat there for a while, him enjoying the feel of her fingers through his hair, and looking up at the grey celling._

_ Dio wondered if such a day would ever come._

Dio wanted to laugh. _Well, I did become like my father. _He thinks bitterly, and he knows he'd rather die than live with that.

As the announcer called the name for the next tribute, he knows what to do.

"And the second tribute for District Six, Demon, is,"

"I volunteer!"

* * *

_Wow long chapter. 27 pages in word, holy! Ley's chapter was 28. xD;;_

_Anyways. I was reading Harry Potter earlier, and Lily's scrafice for Harry was in my mind when I wrote out this chapter, so I guess it includes a lot of parenty-love and everything?_

_Family relationships are very, very important to me. xD;;_

_Review Replies~_

_Sirenys: LOLnopls. You help improve my poop to shiny poop._

_WinterBarrows: Thank youu~ /drowns in praise and flails/ You make my writing sound so…good. /v/_

_CawCawMuggleFker: ((That name-))  
/slipsaway _

_Shinedown: LOL. Yes, I know xD;;; It went out of control. I don't like long chapters that much, but lately the chapters have been really long…_

_oA o? No squishing! _

_Snowskeeper: Thank yous~ /v/  
Patrick? As in Spongebob? xD;;  
LOl. That's a…interesting way of looking at it.  
LOL. But how do you drop kick it? Don't you have to drop the floor first?  
Oh, really? Alrighty, then.  
Non! My AB is better! I8 ((There's like four days until she comes out~ ;v;))  
Oh llD Okay.  
DEM TWISTY CLIFFS._

_hardcoreGSfan: Oh gosh xD;;  
Yeah, ikr? I hate how the carrot thing doesn't show up…I don't think the '~' symbol does, eithe It sucks cause that symbol used to be my signature I8  
eue. Ty ty~ ;v;_

_Meranii: Thank you so much! ;v;b_

_Kawaii baka: I can't-  
I'm pretty sure I know who you are. /face/_


	16. Amy

_Alrighty. Interesting story behind this one, as well. To be honest, I wrote a few other drafts of another version of Amy's chapter, but to be frank, I hated it. It made no sense and seemed to defy everything, and not at all inspire and represent.  
So, I was watching Tangled online one day, when I came up with this idea. I adjusted some things in the classic Rapunzel fairytale to fit the world of Dangerous Times more, and I have to say, I'm pleased with the result!  
So, I thought, why not, and opened word and winged it. _

_Another little note: Would anyone like to read a little oneshot I wrote on Kaze'aze and her life for DT one day when I was bored? llD_

_Wow um. I just realized that District Seven sounds a lot like a certain country in real life. My bad. _

_This was actually a pretty emotional chapter for me to write. I guess it's good when your writing stirs up memories? Or maybe not so…xD;; _

_Quotes:  
-JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone  
-Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind  
-Dorothy Allison, Bastard out of Carolina  
-Cheryl Hughes  
-Ernest Hemingway  
-Harper Lee, To Kill A Mockingbird  
-Bruce Lee_

_Without holding you back any longer, I present Amy's chapter from a very sudden and unplanned update._

*Note that I wrote this in like, two hours, so it's probably the worst rushed job in the world. /hides from boos and tomatoes 

* * *

Chapter Fifteen- Amy

* * *

_"As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."_

* * *

It's a rainy, dark day when two figures, clutching a bundle to their chest, scurry across the lonely street, looking around wildly. If any peacekeepers—Serdin's soldiers, the people of District Seven, Talent, liked to call them—caught them, there would be no mercy. Instant death would suffice.

Still, this was something they had to do. A wet hand snakes out of the white hood to draw it back, revealing a petite face with large green eyes and messed pink hair.

"I think this is the place," She whispers, eyes urgent.

The other draws his hood back, revealing a slender face with kind brown eyes and a scruffy brown hair. "Are you sure?"

"I saw her enter here," The female confirms. "Let's go before they find us. Hurry!"

They rush into the silent train, wincing as the rusted door creaks open. Letting the storm in, they leave a dark puddle at their feet. With no time to waste, they quickly run across the carpeted halls and duck into a small room at the very end.

"So you made it."

A quiet voice greets them, and they spin around to see a female.

"I feel like I'm dealing with the devil," The female whispers into the male's ear, clutching the bundle closer to her chest.

"We did," The male confirms, stepping toward to speak. He flinches under the other female's cold red eyes, but stays firm, matted hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks.

"Well? Bring me it."

The female reaches forward, purple ringlets dangling as she reaches for the bundle in the other female's arms.

The woman slaps her hand away, eyes wide with fear.

"I'm not going to hurt it," She snaps.

"Before we hand Amy to you," The male steps between the two. "We need to confirm something. You are Karina of Serdin, correct? Queen Enna's right hand and jester?"

The female scowls. "Correct. However, when I am dealing with this business, I expect you to call me by my codename. Lady Kaze'aze, it is."

"Lady Kaze'aze," The male corrects himself.

"And you are the family of Plie?" She lifts an eyebrow.

"Y-yes, Lady Kaze'aze," The woman speaks, her arms tightening around the bundle.

A soft but high-pitched squealing fills the air as the baby inside the cloths begins to cry.

Kaze'aze tsks. "You be glad this room is soundproof. Now hand me that dammed thing!"

The Plies gasp, and the woman opens her mouth, but no noise comes out. Softly, hesitantly, she hands the baby over to Karina, who takes it with annoyance.

"So this is little Amy Plie," She says, pulling the cloth down to reveal a beautiful little baby with soft pink locks and closed eyes. "And the one you want to make the deal for, correct?"

The two parents nod.

"Well then, do you have the payment?" Kaze'aze holds out her hand, almost bored, and hands Amy back to her mother with the other. Mrs. Plie grabs Amy as soon as she can and hugs the girl to her chest.

"Here," The male passes a white envelope to Kaze'aze. Kaze'aze takes the paper in her hands and opens it, keeping her eyes on the pair. Peeking inside, her cruel lips spread in a smile.

"Sufficient. Now, the deal. You will pay this much every year?"

They nod.

"Very good. Very good," Kaze'aze chuckles. "Consider it done."

* * *

_"When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind." _

* * *

Amy Plie. A girl said to have it all. She was beautiful, fun-loving, and talented. Raised in a rich and loving household with her two parents and many servants, she was the only child and apple of both her parents, her classmates, her maids, and even the shopkeepers she passed by to greet good morning everyday's eye. Never once had little Amy Plie needed to go hungry, or even worry about being chosen for the Chase Games. For, Amy Plie seemed to have ridiculously good luck. Everything she wanted, she got. Everytime tributes were picked, she wasn't one. She was the type to find food coupons on the ground, and newspapers containing news of the outside districts in the wind.

See, District Seven was not like all the other districts. It lived in complete utter solitude, complete utter paradise. Serdin's favourite district, they believed. For they had no money—saved from a few households allowed with permission from the queen, like Amy Plie's family—and everything was bought using coupons. Food coupons for a family of four. Clothing coupons for a child nearing the age of ten. That was how District Seven spent their everyday life. Some may call it controlled, unlawful, unbelievable, but for the people of District Seven, this was life, and they loved every bit of it. Everyday, there was a gathering at the town center, where the national anthem of Serdin would be played, along with a speech about Serdin being the saviour and grace of all. Children would bow and offer food up to the city, while adults offered coupons and clothes. It was a daily routine of life for them, and nothing special.

However, there came events which the citizens of District Seven would turn a blind eye to and pretend nothing was happening. It was common to see a public execution—nothing more than a bullet to the head—when peacekeepers—Serdin's guards—found one or two people either sneaking out of the District or into it. There was one rule in all of District Seven, and it was that no one was let in or out unless granted proper permission. If people couldn't even bother to face that one simple rule, then why should they live in paradise? It was a silly matter and whoever died, deserved it. At least, that was what Serdin's guards promised them.

Either way, life went on, and Amy Plie wasn't concerned over these things. Why should she be, when her world, her life, was perfection?

* * *

_"Things come apart so easily when they have been held together with lies."_

* * *

"We can't afford it anymore, Amy dear."

"Why not? Are we poor? Are you holding back? I bet that's it! Is it something else?"

"Of course not, Amy. Don't worry now, dear. Everything will be fine. You just continue your life. Mommy and Daddy will fix it all."

"…"

"Now, now. Don't give me that look. You know we'll always be here for you no matter what. Now, sleep."

_"The truly scary thing about undiscovered lies is that they have a greater capacity to diminish us than exposed ones. They erode our strength, our self-esteem, our very foundation." _

"We can't afford this year."

"But why? We're so close! Can't you borrow more from—"

"I can't ask for any more! We're already up to our waists in debt! What, do you want to increase it any more?"

"Stop yelling! I'm just trying to suggest something!"

"Well it's not helping! Just stop!"

"Fine! Blame me, will you?"

Outside the shut tight wooden door, a fifteen year old Amy Plie, who had recently gotten a job as an announcer, sunk to the ground, brown eyes wide. In her hand she clutched her acceptance letter, a congratulations and invitation to announce for this year's Chase Games. Covering her hand in her arms, she cried. Maybe it was foolish, maybe there were others that were far worse than her, but for now, she just wanted to be selfish.

She couldn't stand her parents fighting. She just couldn't stand it. Because they had never fought before, and she had never imagined them to be so deeply in debt. It felt that everything that was hid from her suddenly came up, choking her until she couldn't see from the mask of tears.

Amy Plie was beginning to understand the world she was hid from.

And she didn't like it at all.

* * *

_"All things truly wicked start from innocence."_

* * *

"And now, the first tribute for District Seven, Talent! Put your hands up, ladies and gentlemen, for…"

Amy paused, letting the audience have some time. The girl was basically glittering with excitement. What an honour to be able to announce for her own district's Chase Games! Putting all other thoughts and worries at the back of her mind, she focused on doing her very best. Pulling a slip of paper out of the bucket, she closed her eyes, unfolded it, and read.

"Amy…"

Here she stopped, rereading the note to make sure.

"Well?" The District Seven mayor stared at her expectantly.

"A-Amy…" She stuttered. There was silence for a moment. "P-Plie…" She said in a small voice.

Her.

Then the world flew back and everything went black.

* * *

_"They've done it before and they'll do it again and when they do it - seems that only the children weep. Good night."_

* * *

Amy sits alone, in her District Seven room from the Serdin train. She has her head bent down, still not fully believing what had happened. She wants to cry, but no tears come, only this melancholy sadness that fills her up and seems to eat away at her heart.

She doesn't notice the figure slip quietly into the room.

"Well, well. Amy Plie."

Amy's head snaps up to meet a lady, with fair skin and a lithe, tall body, purple ringlets decorating her face.

"Who are you?" Her voice comes out a little more hostile than she intends.

The lady doesn't answer her. Instead, she walks around the room.

"How pitiful, that you were betrayed by the ones you love."

"What?"

"You do not know? What are those voices you hear at night? The shouting behind closed doors? The drawings you make, to have your family back together again, only to have you rip them apart from the frustration?"

Amy covered her mouth. "H-How did you—"

"It's sad when a pair loses their love for each other," The lady looks bored, checking her nails and sniffing. "However, it is even more desperate when they lose love for their very own, most precious daughter."

"No! That's not…" Amy trails off, because what the lady is so true, so desperately true, Amy wants to drop and cry.

"They were playing you all along. Do you know how you managed to escape those years without being chosen? It was not luck, not by the odds, but by your parents' dirty hands, passing bucketloads of cash to shady agents that work outside of District Seven—"

Amy gasped, her hands covering her face now. Tears well in her eyes as she shakes her head, trying to block it out, but also wanting to listen.

"So that they may protect you. Together, as a team, they worked for you. But what happens when that team falls apart?"

She gestured to the Serdin train. "This, my dear, this. How can you believe in luck when you had none to begin with? Do not joke with yourself, Amy darling. Luck was playing you in its palm all along."

Amy wants to cry and scream, she wants to block out the words, she wants to shout that the lady is wrong and her parents would never do anything like that, but she knows she can't, she just can't. No words make it up from her vocal chords, only raw, gasping sounds.

"However," The lady paused and gently removed Amy's hands from her face.

"You can change this. Amy, you have the talent and power. I can lend you a hand. You want it, no?"

Amy nodded slowly, mascara stained cheeks and red eyes making her quite a sight from the bubbly girl she was just a few minutes ago.

"Then, take my offer. Come with me."

The lady smirked.

"Who needs luck when you have power?"

Amy stared at her outstretched hand. "W-who are you?" She managed, wiping her cheek.

"Kaze'aze, dear, Lady Kaze'aze. I'm the one who found out about your parents. Don't worry, they're safe. Their connections should prevent them from getting into any serious trouble."

"B-But—"

Kaze'aze eyes hardened. "Tell me you are not concerned for those laughing nobles, Amy. They play you just like a puppet on strings. Do you want that?"

Amy shook her head.

Kaze'aze smiled. "Then come with me. I can take you to a lovely place. There's a boy there, a thief, who's had a terrible life. I'm sure he and you will get along lovely together. There's also a guard from the Eurdon family, one who was brutally victimized and tortured by Serdin. Perhaps you can help him on his road to recovery? Oh, Amy. We have so many people, from different races and backgrounds. You must meet them all. Why not come? I'm sure you can learn so much, and even help me recruit the next one."

"T-The next one?" Amy sniffed, but she was smiling now, imagining the scene in her head.

"Of course. In fact, she's on this train right now."

"O-Okay…Who is it?"

Kaze'aze leant down and whispered one word in her ear. A name.

Amy nodded. "A-Alrighty."

Kaze'aze smiled now, leaning back up to her full height. "Very good. Very good."

* * *

_"If you don't want to slip up tomorrow, speak the truth today."_

* * *

_Wow! A surprisingly short chapter considering the last two ones!_

_Ohhhh, foreshadowing. ;D _

_Review Replies~_

_KAWAII MUTHAFUKA: ((That name.)) What even—_

_Snowskeeper/Le Snowskeeper: /laffs  
Amg. That. I would pay to see a fic like that. xD;; Patrick Star meets Grand Chase!  
Amg. A Keys to the Kingdom fan? I love you. I read those books when I was like eight and have loved them ever since. I need to read them again!  
O n O Well…My Angelic Buster can shoot pink bubbles and make pink tornadoes! And she's a girl! Hahahaha!  
LOLOLOL._

AHhhh /w/ Thank you for all the praise!  
I won't spoil anything, but I will reveal Dio will die unhappy. llD Oh I am so evil.  
LOLOL. I'll count on you to do that, then c:

_Puriyo: /sexy Ja'far face/ Plsss._

_WinterBarrows: Amg. Seriously? Another Dio fangirl? Let me wuv you /v/ Let's be fangirls together /v/  
LOLyes. Fangirls curse. C:  
Aklaskgagdag Stahppp. I'm not worthy of all this praise! /v/  
Ahhhhhhhhhhh. /flails/ Stopppp /w/ Too much praise. I'm really not worthy! _


	17. Jin

_Oh sweet dear lord baby Jesus.  
What's this? Dangerous Times, Fata Lunevis' pitiful excuse of a fanfiction, has reached over __**one hundred reviews? **__  
Someone pinch me. This has to be a joke. Okay who hacked into fanfictiondotnet and raised the number of reviews on this story?  
Hacker, let me love you.  
Naw, I'm just kidding.  
But in all seriousness, thank you guys so, so, so much! When I first posted this idea as a little plot bunny that had gotten into my mind, I never expected it to blossom so. I never even believed I'd go over twenty reviews, but here we are, one hundred reviews!  
I cannot thank everyone who has taken the time to write a review and tell me about the story and everything. I feel a personal connection with some of the reviewers now, due to the convos we've been having through the review replies. I also never expected to get together with Sirenys and plan stuff for DT and scribble out ideas and write new ones! She and Puriyo are the only ones that know some of the things I have planned for DT. 8D I also never dreamed shinedown would take it upon himself to tell me to update DT everytime the word 'fanfiction' was mentioned. xD And lastly, I can't thank you all enough for being just so amazing and leaving reviews and stuff.  
This might seem like a small thing to most, but for me, it's huge. Thank you all so much. ;v; _

_Also, just to ruin the mood, I might not update as much as I used to. Science fair is coming to a close, which means I must get off my lazy butt and quickly scramble together some paragraphs that seem wise to create a presentation. Oh dear. I promise, I will be back one-hundred-and-fifty-percent once all my school projects are finished and I have caught up on reading Homestuck!  
Seriously. I'm addicted to Homestuck now. Karkat is so cute~ ;u;  
Either way, that'll be around…two weeks or so, give or take? I will try my best to update during this timeframe, but I'm afraid I cannot give you guys my usual three-four day updates until school gets out of the way. D8_

_Also, I'm seriously sorry for the short chapters lately. It's been so freaking cold here in Canada, my warm, nice little inspiration has flown to Hawaii or something. _

_Arggh, long authors note. Sorry, sorry!_

_Continuing onto the chapter! Once again, thank you guys so so much for one hundred and two reviews! ;u;_

* * *

Chapter Sixteen- Jin

Jin Kaien. A male of honor, the youngest of Silver Knights to become a general. He was a role model for all of the younger children, and even some adults grudgingly admitted their respect for his firm uptake on life and ever-burning spirit. The boy was committed to their beliefs, took all fights very seriously, and was an avid voice of reason when fights broke out. In all, he was perfect. Loved by all, strong and confident, Jin even had a fanbase. It was not uncommon to see Jin returning from a mission, sweat shining in the heat of midday sun, wide grin on his face, and yellow eyes glinting with all the stories he had of him kicking Serdin's butts back to the city to tell the younger Knights.

The Silver Knights. A small tribe formed on the outskirts of District Nine, Fighter. A place where all rebels were invited, people shunned for their ideas and dreams. A group that Serdin tried its very best to wipe off the face of the planet.

However, it wasn't often the Silver Knights who lost a battle. Armed with fast and furious martial artists and even one learned mage, Serdin's kae and cowardly mechanism made from District Five, Creation, was no match for true strength, blood, and passion. With sweat-soaked clothes and hard grimaces, the Silver Knights won with their almost inhuman levels of pure, brutal strength. They could tell that Serdin was getting tired now, what, with all the wars going on and the amount of money and labor needed to repair their machines, which each Silver Knight did their best to wreck as beautifully—or, in Serdin's case, as badly—as possible. Jin was well known for his special move, one that he invented by concentrating pure levels of chi, one's body energy, into the palms of his hands until it formed an actual physical ball of glinting strength. He'd named it the 'Fist of Ten Thousand Hells', and the name was almost as deadly as the result. The warground was normally soaked with littered machine parts and even human limbs, for the Fist destroyed everyone and everything in its path. It was nothing but an embodiment of strength and willpower, combined into one to make a devastating move.

The move soon became the finale of any battle. As soon as they deemed Serdin defeated, everyone cleared away as Jin posed and concentrated, tiny beads of perspiration running down his forehead as his palms faced forward and the small flicker of a yellow-orange circle began to spin. Soon the circle would expand into this giant ball of energy, turning and rolling, making cracks of anger as Jin pushed it forward and it wiped out everything in its path. They would sail home with big grins and inappropriate jokes at the thought of Enna, Queen of Serdin, weeping like the delicate thing she was at the sight of her battered army.

"Jin of the Silver Knights," the Knights would cheer and Serdin would curse.

"Hail the Red Lion!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

It was a surprise, when the wax-sealed pure-white envelope appeared on Victor's doorstep. Victor, one of the leaders of the Silver Knights and one of Jin's trainers, along with Asin Tarin, recognized the seal as Serdin's, and rushed it to the mage's chambers. There, a sleepy mage dressed in a silk nightgown had deemed it safe to open, all knights gathered in the wee hours of morning to watch Victor carefully open the envelope, drawing out the creamy letter, written in cursive. He opened the folded paper and began to read, carefully and slowly.

"To the Silver Knights, tribe of District Nine, Serdin,"

"And conquerors of Serdin!" One knight brawled, slapping Jin on the back as he belched, still not fully awake and recovered from last night's party.

"Quiet!" Asin silenced him, and Jin was surprised to see the wrinkles on his master's forehead become even more visible, a sure sign Asin was worried.

Victor glared once in their direction before clearing his throat and continuing.

"We come with offers of peace and resources. The fight between us has spawned generation after generation, and it had been all too useless. Nothing but broken skeletons and stained grass remains in our wake.

"Which is why, we ask of you, our enemy, to—not completely, just enough, of course—let go of the old ways of the Silver Knights and embrace Serdin culture. I am sure that together, we will make a lovely team, invincible. The Silver Knights will be honored in our military as one of the oldest teams with a diverse culture and traditions of its own. We can arrange for one of your best knights to come as a ambassador, to stay in one of our prospering districts, the land of District Seven, Talent. We offer supplies: food and clothing. And ask for nothing in return other than your word in alliance and loyalty to our army.

"We hope you will consider this.

"Enna, Queen of Serdin, Mistress of Magic, Priest of Samara, 72nd Queen in the Sernious lineage, Grand Duchess of the land of Ellia, Lady of SIlverland."

As Victor finished, there was silence all around. A peace treaty with Serdin? And coming from the Queen herself?

Muttering was heard amongst the crowd. Some agreed with Serdin's words: it was pointless to lose a life, a living, breathing human being over silly fights that could be stopped by signing a piece of paper. Others argued that it might a trick, a clever ploy by Serdin's advisors and nobles, to end the knights once and for all, and use them to take out District Six, Demon, as well. However, the most surprising one of all was Jin himself.

"No!" He slammed his hand on the table, glancing around the room. "How can you even bother to consider something like that? Reject them immediately."

Jin met Victor's cold, calculating glare full on, and many stared at the young knight in surprise. Jin was known to be open minded, free to all opinions and frequently encouraging others to speak what they thought and forget the consequences.

And yet, here he was, the young Silver Knight opposing something that could change their lives for the better.

"And why do you object so strongly to this?" Victor remained calm, but his slightly raised shoulders gave away that he too was surprise at the boy's anger.

"What about all our customs? Our traditions? Would you throw away what it means to be a Silver Knight, our pledge and honor, just for the faint hope of a life with peace, as dogs of Serdin?"

"Jin," Victor's tone was sharp. "Must I repeat the letter? They clearly state they will let us keep our culture as it is, as long as we allow some Serdin influence."

"'Some' will quickly turn into 'lots'! Pretty soon, we won't have anything to remind us of our doty! Do you want to be like the others, on the streets, worshipping Serdin like it's a saint and praying for food every night?"

Many gasped.

"Do not overdo it. It is not as bad as you make it to be. We are not the Distict of Religion, and we remain clearheaded, steadfast soldiers, just in Serdin's army."

"If we accept this, we shall be. Victor, try to understand what I'm saying!" There is a clear exasperation in Jin's voice and many looked away, with shame at how Jin talked to his mentor.

Victor sighed, clearly irritated. "Jin, you know not know what this could do," he held up the paper between two fingers. "It could save lives!"

"What are a few lives to protecting our ways?" Jin demanded.

The room went deadly silent, and eyes hardened.

"Jin, you are too young. You do not understand the value of life and death."

Victor's tone was soft, final. Jin drew himself up, hands balled into fists, and spun around, walking to the door.

"Do what you want. The Silver Knights are as good as ruined in your hands."

The wooden doors shut with a resounding clap, and silence filled the air. Eyes filled with doubt and anger stared at Victor, who sat, looking tired and defeated.

"M-Master Victor?" The mage timidly asked. "What are we to do, now?"

Victor rubbed his temples, brows furrowed together. He looked at the mage and sighed.

"It's simple. Send Jin as the ambassador. Hopefully, District Seven will help the boy cope with the changes."

"Does this mean…" A voice started in the crowd, then trailed off.

"Yes," Victor finished. "As of today, the Silver Knights are no more. We are Squad 412, of Serdin's army."

_~Dangerous Times~_

A few years had passed since then, and Jin still found it difficult to get used to Serdin's dominance over the district. Every day, citizens were forced to attend an assembly, where either a visitor from Serdin or the mayor read aloud about Serdin's might. Though Jin casually skipped this ceremony every single morning, he could still hear the rambling on the other side of the district, where he casually strolled by and peacekeepers—or Serdin's guards, the name made him scoff—shot him a murderous look. Jin is positive that, if it wasn't for his rank, he'd be dead and dumped. In fact, he was confident most of the peacekeeper meetings consisted of peacekeepers battling against each other to win the honor of shooting that bullet through his head once Serdin completely took over the Silver Knights.

Not that he'd let that happen, of course. Jin had been against this plan from the beginning, even when they granted him the 'honor' of being their ambassador. To Jin, it seemed he had only been offered the title so Victor could make sure no one listened—and agreed—to his reasons.

That didn't stop the red-haired male from trying, though. All his letters, his requests to return to District Nine, his efforts to catch Serdin devising some evil plan had all resulted in nothing. Letters were sent back with 'RETURN TO SENDER' stamped on the front, requests remained unanswered, and Serdin seemed to be busy with the war between it and District Six than paying attention to the Knights.

Still, Jin was positive they were up to something. And once he believed something, he never went back. If it was for the Silver Knights, he'd move Heaven and Hell if necessary.

He thought about this as he wandered the streets, blind to all but his mind. As he'd been taught, when he needed to do something, he had to focus on only that and never let his mind wander. A lost mind was a weakened focus, after all. As soon as he'd entered the battlefield, he shut off all thoughts but the one telling him to fight, fight and win.

Perhaps that made him coldhearted, but it was not something Jin had ever thought to consider. When he was born and taught to do something, he didn't question it. If it was the way of the Silver Knights, it was his way. Nothing was right or wrong, only a matter of opinion. Balance, Jin thinks, is the key. Equality. While the other person may think his ideas and beliefs are narrowminded, Jin believed that being open to _all _new ideas could destroy a man's sense of self. If he was always picking up new things and letting go of the old, where was the one person he was? Jin believed he had to be firm in some subjects, and the honor of all the Knights was certainly one.

Something touched his shoulder. Spinning around, leg already halfway off the ground and poised to attack, Jin found himself face-to-face with a peacekeeper, who looked slightly terrified.

His heart dropped and panic began to rise. They only reason a peacekeeper would approach him was to bring him news of the Silver Knights, and by the way the man had straightforwardly touched him, whatever happened could not be good.

"What do you want?" Glancing at the man warily, Jin raised his fists.

The peacekeeper eyed Jin's defensive pose and stepped back.

"Sir, today is…" He trailed off as Jin glared at him, luminous yellow eyes hardened with sealed rage.

"I'm sure you're well aware I don't attend the assemblies," Jin cut him off.

"No, of course not, sir," the peacekeeper looked frustrated. "Only, today is—"

He was interrupted by the sudden speed of a black limo. Jin stared at the car, wide-eyed—that couldn't be legal in District Seven—as the door slid open and a man stepped out—tall, lean, and dressed in a crisp white pinstripe suit. Jin thought he looked familiar, but couldn't quite place the guy, not until he noticed the peacekeeper kneeling down in terror.

"S-sir!"

The man glared at them both, and Jin realized he was the mayor of District Seven. Breaking his own laws while no one else was around, hm?

"What are you two doing here?" He demanded, staring at Jin as the peacekeeper jumped and began to mutter, falling over his own words.

Jin shrugged. "Walking."

"He momentarily inwardly shivered at his lack of respect, but shook his head. This was Serdin. The only respect they deserved was respect for the dead.

"And why are you not at the Reaping?" The mayor cut straight to the case, smoothing out the wrinkles on his front while having his gaze still straight on Jin.

That surprised the red-head.

"The Reaping?" He questioned, looking slightly dazed. Surely it was not the time of year, already?

"Correct. Do not inform me you have forgotten. I was not under the impressing the Silver Knights would send someone dense to represent them."

Jin gritted his teeth, but he knew this was his loss. How had he forgotten about the Reaping? Even if the Silver Knights had no love for Serdin, this was an event of upmost importance only a fool would forget about.

Which meant he was a fool. He'd shamed the Silver Knight's name and embarrassed himself in front of the mayor, who was sure to give a status report to Serdin, that was sure to end up in Victor's hands. Jin grimaced at the thought of his old mentor frowning as he read the report.

"Of course not!" Jin said indignantly, louder than necessary. "I…I was just…" he faltered.

The mayor fixed him with an impatient, steely glare like a schoolteacher eyeing a troublemaker.

"Fine," The mayor sighed, then turned his back to Jin, heading for the limo. "Get in. I suppose I will grant you a ride," he said, with obvious distaste.

As Jin muttered a small 'thank you, sir' and headed inside, the mayor watched the Silver Knight plonk himself most unseeingly down on the velvet cushions. The man himself settled down, picking up a cup of unfinished wine as he sipped quietly while watching the boy.

Jin sat, open-legged and arms spread. The mayor wondered if the boy had ever been educated on proper manners. Then, he shook his head. Of course not. This was someone raised with the Silver Knights, the shame of District Nine.

"Barbarian district," he muttered under his breath.

Jin's trained ears picked up the mayor's rather loud whisper, but the red-haired male said nothing. He was in the mayor's territory, and this was not a fight he was willing to pick today of all days.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"And now, District Seven, today, at this moment, is the long-awaited time of the year, where two lucky tributes are chosen to fight for honor in the yearly sport known as the Chase Games! Ladies and gentlemen, the Reapings! I'm Amy Plie, your announcer, and I hope you will all have a wonderful time today! Remember, may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Jin stands at the back of the crowd, eyes trained on a girl with twin pigtails and an unnatural shade of pink for hair. She was happily bouncing about on stage, with wide joy shining in her big brown, doe-like eyes, contrast to the formal stares of the citizens of District Seven, watching her. Amy Plie seemed perfectly happy onstage, without a care in the world.

_Well, she doesn't. _Jin thinks bitterly. He'd seen the girl around town a couple of times, riding in a sleek, shiny white limo with millions of followers and suitors chasing after. The rich folk of District Seven. They were equal with Serdin on levels of money, ignorance, and vanity. To Jin, the upper-class citizens were nothing but soft, blinded babies rolling around in their money and ignoring the suffering of others.

As he stared at Amy, he felt his growing anger take over. How dare she look so _happy? _That was what angered him the most. All the higher class people seemed so happy, so content, even with the knowledge of other suffering districts. It was as if they didn't care at all.

Well, they don't, do they? He'd seen it himself. How easily Serdin killed its own people trying to gain the upper hand in wars. Even _demons _valued their troops more than Serdin.

"And now, the first tribute for District Seven, Talent!" Amy shouted gleefully.

Everyone held their breath as Amy reached into the jar and drew a single yellow strip of paper. She glanced at the crowd one more time before reading what was spelled out in bold print.

"Amy…" her eyes grew wide, perfectly round like giant saucers. She stopped, pausing to reread what was on the note she held with shaking fingers.

"Well?" The mayor asked expectantly.

"A-Amy," Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper, stuttering.

"P-Plie…"

And her eyes rolled back and the pink announcer collapsed onto the ground and everyone was silent.

Amy Plie. Her. The announcer. The announcer hired by Serdin to pick a tribute.

Jin wants to laugh, to smirk at how ironic it is, to make fun of the snobby rich girl that had finally gotten a taste of her own medicine. But somehow, he didn't feel the cruel, glad feeling he thought he could. Instead, he only found pity for Amy, someone he did not even know. Someone he shouldn't know.

Peacekeepers were helping the girl up now, lifting the delicate female and marching towards the Serdin train. Amy looks dazed as her head rolls around like a limp doll and she doesn't struggle as the peacekeepers haul her in and slam the doors shut.

Widened eyes look at the black doors, wondering what was to happen now. How could they go on without an announcer? For a moment, a small flicker of hope was felt in all of them. Perhaps the announcer, Amy Plie, was the only tribute; that someone working for Serdin would become part of the games herself.

Onstage, the mayor pushed a nervous-looking peacekeeper up, with a few sharp words to hurry up and pick the next tribute so they could end the Reaping for another year.

The peacekeeper's hand lingers above the jar, hesitant, as if he is afraid he'll pick himself and that'll be the end of it. The square was absolutely silent, both at the shock of Amy's Reaping and for the identity of the next tribute.

"A-And, the next tribute for the Chase Games,"

With a gulp, the peacekeeper closed his eyes and grabbed a single slip of paper. Without any pause or preparation, he reads the name, relief etched on his face.

"Jin Kaien!"

At first, Jin, along with everyone else, looked around for the unlucky boy. But then it dawned on Jin.

Him.

"You're kidding," he glares at the two peacekeepers that suddenly appear at his side. Not a trace of respect nor pity on their faces—was that pleasure on the left man's face, hidden behind the white peacekeeper mask with netting?

Guns poke in his back and he finds himself walking forward. Eyes follow him and he's positive he can see relief on every single face. Well, no surprise. He didn't socialize with most members of District Seven, so all he was to them was the strange immigrant from District Nine. They had never really accepted him, and never would. Better a stranger to go and die rather than kin, after all.

As he's guided towards the train, the mayor steps out to shake Jin's hand, a grim look on his face.

"We appreciate your sacrifice, Jin. Willing to go for District Seven in the Chase Games. I'm sure this will bring us one step forward in the dream of peace for Serdin, District Seven, and District Nine, the Silver Knights." Jin is almost sure he can see the mayor's lip curl as their hands meet in one single shake.

Jin wanted to smash the guy's face in. His hand tightened, making the mayor stare at him warily.

"Yeah," Jin casually agrees, but inside he's seething with rage. How dare the mayor stroll in and tell him he being picked and shipped off to die was a peace effort? He wondered if Serdin considered him a fool. He was the best the Silver Knights had to offer! Did that mean nothing to them? Did they dare try to use him as piece in their games? Jin doesn't believe in things such as luck or hope. He believes everything that happens in caused by man, and certainly Serdin has something to do with his Reaping.

He let go of the mayor's hand, smiling all-too-brightly, and heads towards the train, waving away the tailing peacekeepers.

As soon as he reaches the doors, the cameramen and reports ambush him, swarming around as they jabber on their technology and things are broadcasted live.

"Jin! Jin! How do you feel about the Chase Games?"

"Can you win?"

"Do you think of the other tributes as threats?"

""Will you consider taking a moment to wrap up today's events with some famous last words, to give your fans and sponsors a boost?"

Normally, Jin would've shoved them aside, but looking at the flashing cameras, he suddenly had an idea.

_Don't give them hope, _Victor had told him once when he was about to start a mission as leader of the troop. _Hope is a deadly thing. It makes you vain, crazed, trying to reach for something that never existed in the first place and never will. _

But what he was about to do was impossible. Nonexistent.

Oh, he'd give them hope alright.

"Yeah."

He spoke suddenly, and instantly microphones waved near his face.

"I think I'll win."

"How?" The group chorused.

"The other tributes are weaklings. I'm perfectly capable of battling. I was raised to fight."

The crowd waited as he took a breath.

"Once I win, I'll set about to making some changes. Serdin is cowardly, soft, hiding behind its military it blackmailed into service. They have some knowledge, but all the districts combined can form strength that will crush even knowledge. I will gather up all the suffering districts, because I know you're listening, Eleven, Twelve! We'll take in all the ones forced under command—One, Two, Three, Seven! And everyone's that working hard while Serdin sits around on their lazy bottoms, not even bothering to thank you for your hard work…Doesn't that anger you, Five, Eight, Nine, Ten? And as for Four and Six, don't you want back the pride your mighty ancestors had? Do you want to remain bowing down to Serdin forever, or forge your own path in life?"

Here he pauses, making sure the cameras are zoomed in right on his face, maniac grin fixed on his features.

"Stand by me, Twelve Districts, because I know you're watching and I know this is right! Watch, I'll return from the Chase Games and lead everyone to a better life! _For I'm Jin, of the Silver Knights!"_

And he finished, leaving the reporters, cameramen, peacekeepers, citizens, and the mayor absolutely _white _with terror.

Jin remained there, wide smile still on his face. Even as peacekeepers grabbed him and shouted for punishment, a lifetime of torture for encouraging rebel activity, he felt accomplished. Try as they might, but they will never quell down the flames of rebellion started today. They could beat him, starve him, even kill him, but it all didn't matter.

His speech had been broadcasted live today, and along with it, the spirit, courage, and rebel sense of a caged lion finally breaking free.

* * *

_Wow cheesy ending._

_But yey! We are finally done District Seven! We're actually getting somewhere, now! 8D_

_Next is…Eshe. Oh god. My OC. Well. I'll just crawl back under this rock and never update DT again. _

_I think I'll update District Eight as a sort of combo-buddy thing, with Eshe and Rufus and Theo and Shera together. Or would you guys like separate chapters? Please tell me! _

_Review Replies~_

_hardcoreGSfan: Oh gosh. That's me trying to make excuses and failing. XD;;;  
Oh yes, people are going to die c: I do love my angst~_

_Snowskeeper: LOL. Well, see that you do, then! I will be ever faithfully waiting c: And no worries! Crack isn't meant to be a masterpiece. Plus, your writing is amazing already, it's highly unlikely the word 'crappy' will ever come near such a fic.  
LOL. Pls. :you:  
Amg. I wanna hear the audio! Though, I prefer reading to listening xD;; Call me old school, but I love reading and books~  
Ikr, ikr? It was such a good series. Though, I really can't remember much about it xD;;  
:you: W-well..My AB has a giant spirit dragon!  
Also, did you know KaiserXAngelic Buster/KyleXTear is canon? 8D I ship.  
I-I just really like making characters die unhappily llD"""  
LOLOL. Well then, go ahead, sir.  
Ahhh. Ty ty ;u;  
You shall know who that girl is soon! That is, if Homestuck and school don't get in the way llD""_

_Sirechickenjuice: I r34lly h4ve no 1d34 wh4t to s4y._

_WinterBarrows: Ahhhh—No, no, no, stahpp. /v/ You make my rushed writing sound so amazing!  
Amg ikr ikr. Dem abs. Dem wings. Dem horns. Dat rake hand. Dio you gorgeous sexy chieftain thing you._

_Purileock: LOL. You.  
But thank you very much! ;u;_

_Shinedown: asksladgksg thank you ;u; all you reviewers are so nice about my crap ;v;_

_YOURslave: Oh dear, I didn't clarify this, did I?  
Well, firstly, Dangerous Times is both a Hunger Games and Grand Chase crossover, as well as labeled under angst. Gigantic spoiler here, but mostly everyone is going to die. Though some will survive, most of them will end up dead and gone.  
Though, I will have the normal pairings here, such as ElesisXRonan, LireXRyan, ArmeXLass, JinXAmy, __**SieghartXMari, **__DioXLey, and so forth. There will also be some unusual pairings such as SieghartXElesis and LireXLass. However, __**none of the pairings will go beyond friendship level. **__I am not comfortable writing smut and I do not want to write it in the middle of a survival game. I apologize about this, but I'm not that good at romance, and the main purpose of this story was for me to improve on action, battle, and angst.  
Still, thanks for giving Dangerous Times a try and taking the time to leave a review! C:_


	18. Rufus

_It's an unexpected update that I rushed to no ends!  
Haha seriously this chapter is so crappy. ;w;_

_So, I just remembered that today is my dear friend Sireny's birthday. And since she gave me such a lovely birthday present last year, I felt that I needed, needed to give her something this year. llD_

_And to my dear Senyuri:  
I'm sorry I keep forgetting your birthday, so have some Rufus. You know you like this Rufus. If only you were Puriyo and loved Rufus.  
Love, Fatty Moonpoop. _

_Also, I know I said this chapter was going to be Eshe, but I figured Rufus would be better as an introduction to District Eight. Plus, Puriyo had some strong opinions on Rufus. _

_Also, about District Eight…  
May I clarify that it is no way sexist. This may contain some sensitive material and bad language, so I understand if you click away. I love females—I myself am one, so I am no in way discarding their value._

* * *

Chapter Seventeen- Rufus

The soft, musical sound of a figure rushing along the trees follows an elderly man walking along the dirt trail.

"Target."

A quiet voice whispers to no one, more for himself than for anyone. A soft guarantee that the money was his.

The older man picks up his pace, wisps of white hair flying around his head as he glances around, eyes slightly wide, grimacing as his footsteps echo around the empty forest. He knows what he's doing is dangerous, and he knows there are bounty hunters that would fight for his head.

The person hiding among the leaves allows himself a smirk. He can bet the older man didn't guess they would send _him._

And just as the man turns the corner, right towards the tree he was lurking in, the hunter fires one single shot.

_Bam!_

Flustered birds fly out of their hiding nests, squealing in shock as the man's body falls to the ground, eyes still open. A small bullet has lodged itself right in the center of his heart.

Point blank.

The person in the trees leaps down, casually shoving his guns back into the belt at his side, red eyes glowing with smug triumph as he takes a small knife out, and gets to work bringing…evidence, of the murder.

_~Dangerous Times~_

On the outside of the district, right near the path that leads into the woods where Hunters do their work, a blonde-haired red-eyed male carries a small bag over his shoulder, walking into the District as if he owned the place.

Out of the corner of his eye, this person sees the females, with little children clinging to their skirts, glance at him with terror, then rush inside. He scoffs, rolling his eyes. He wasn't dangerous, not at all. He was like any other Hunter, save from the fact he wasn't married and he wasn't exactly on the good side of the law.

Well, he didn't want to be. The laws for District Eight, Hunting, were complete, utter rubbish. Males were allowed to hunt for prey, but the food they worked so hard for was then turned into peacekeepers so Serdin could fill themselves. Females weren't allowed to do anything other than stay within the borders of the District, to cook, clean, and take care of children. The Hunting Grounds were barbed with electric wire and turned on at exactly 10:00 PM every night, then turned off at 7:00 AM, where males gathered for another uneventful day of work. For someone like him, who worked at night, he always had to make sure not to get electrocuted.

Turning the corner, he approaches a large, run-down building where loud and bawdy curses can be heard.

The black market of District Eight.

He shoves aside the dirty rag curtain that served as a door, and is met with chaos. Men shouting, gambling, smoking. Colourful words fill the air, along with the musty scent of vomit gone bad.

This doesn't bother him—he's used to it by now—as he strolls through, right to the back of the place, where a few men armed with poker decks and bad mouths are playing a game. Dumping the sack down, he stares at all of them.

"I have what you ordered."

The biggest man, a large, brutal fellow with muscles and no brains, peeks inside and gags. The others laugh as one smacks him all-too-hard on the back.

"That was fast," He belches.

"I do my work when it is ordered."

"Oh, 'cause yer Rufus Wilde, eh?" One taunts, and though the bounty hunter's eye twitches slightly, he keeps his mouth shut and gaze fixed on the man.

"My payment?" Rufus requests.

"Soon, soon. As soon as I win this match!" The man dismisses him with a wave of his hand, turning back to his partners.

Rufus refuses to go. Settling himself down near a rather short male, he glares at the man. "The money. Now."

"Chill, will ya? It's not like you're short of money or anything. Just let it go a few times!"

"If I let go, I'd be out of a business."

"Then ask someone else," the man throws down his cards and pushes a large amount of his chips to the shorter boy. "I'm out."

"You mean to tell me you don't have the money you promised me when we made the deal?"

"Look, I paid you half of the bucks. Let it go, will ya!"

"No."

Rufus slides his small knife out of the pocket snapped onto his leg, and lets the blade glint wickedly in the dim light.

The man's ugly face splits into a scarred grin. "Oh, going to challenge me?"

"Pay up," Is all Rufus says.

"Tomorrow."

"Today."

They glare at each other for a while, much to the disappointment of their spectators.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Someone starts up a chant and soon it drowns the room.

Next to him, the short male packs up his earnings and gets ready to leave.

"Excuse me,"

Rufus glares at him, and the male shifts slightly, keeping his eyes locked on the ground.

"Looking away and picking on the smaller, now are you?"

Rufus snorts. "Never."

"Then come at me!" The man roars and lifts the table up, as cards go flying and the shouts of 'fight!' continue.

Rufus stares around, calculating. As much as he wanted to finish off the guy here and now, he would probably be swept up in a storm of encouraged fighters and, eventually, get in trouble with the peacekeepers. Considering his reputation, it would not be pretty, and he's sure it'll end up with his body hanging in the gallows.

"Not today," Rufus leaps up and catches onto a beam on the celling. "Another time, boys. I'll expect my payment at noon tomorrow. If not, I just might pay a home visit."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I would."

"You're a god dammed bastard, Rufus Wilde! If you lay hands on my wife, I'll hunt you down to the ends of Hell!"

Rufus tsked. "Who said anything about harming the ladies? I would have no such intention. After all, women are delicate." He smirks before opening a small back pocket and letting loose a small smoke bomb. As the grey mist fills the area, he takes this time to make an exit.

Outside, Rufus straps his knife back in and heads to find a place to sleep for the night.

In the corner of his eye, he sees someone rushing away, and recognizes it as the boy who tried to get away when he was about to fight.

Rufus smiles. Maybe he has another way to get his payment.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Hey."

He drops down from the trees, making the male jump into the air.

"What do you want?" Once again, the shorter male keeps his head down until all Rufus can see is the green cap that he's wearing.

"My money."

"I don't owe you any money."

"But you're part of that gang, correct?"

The male snorts. "No. I work solo. That was only for the game."

"But the money you're carrying can be considered my money."

"That's a pity."

Rufus, by now, is getting quite annoyed. He was hoping to weasel some money out, but things weren't going as he had planned.

"Give it."

"Why?" The other male almost looks up in anger, but all Rufus can catch is a sharp green glare before he looks down again.

"Look up."

"Why?" There's an edge to his voice.

"Look up," Rufus repeats.

"No."

Rufus considers briefly where he's seen this person before, and as he looks at the green cap, he realizes.

"You're Eshe, aren't you? The weird, short little guy that hasn't hit puberty yet?"

Eshe flushed angrily. "What are you talking about?"

For a split second, his voice rises to a shrill tone that seems uncommon for a male. Rufus stares at him suspiciously.

"What?" Eshe questions.

"Nothing. Now. Money."

"No way. First you stop me on my way home, then harass me about my gender, and now you're asking for my money?"

"Correct," Rufus confirms.

Eshe raised his head, staring Rufus in the eyes. "I said no."

Rufus meets Eshe's bright green eyes with bored interest. "Too bad. Hand it over."

They glare at each other for a while, and finally Eshe relents.

"Fine. I'll give you the money tomorrow, provided you and I both survive the Reaping."

Rufus's eyes widened momentarily. Oh. Right. Tomorrow. He'd forgotten in the course of things, but tomorrow was the Reaping. A day where two tributes would be picked to fight to the death in the Chase Games, an event that Serdin considered 'entertainment'.

Rufus's face split into a grin. He loved making deals that teased karma.

"Deal."

"Fine. Then, goodbye."

Eshe hurried away, and Rufus could almost hear the male cursing his name under his breath.

Rufus smiled.

"Let's see how the odds turn out tomorrow, will we?"

_~Dangerous Times~_

It was the day of the Reaping, and Rufus was there rather early. Peacekeepers glared at him as he passed, and he flipped the bird as he propped his feet up on a chair nearby. They couldn't touch him when it was the Reaping. Ah, he enjoyed life on these days.

Rufus wasn't worried about getting picked for the Reaping. He had abnormally good luck on his side, and even if he did, he was confident in his abilities. He'd just sit back and snipe everyone.

Soon, the square filled with people. Rufus noticed that there was small square of empty seats around his being, but he laughed it off. Whatever. He had more room to relax, now.

A few minutes later, the Serdin train arrived. A ridiculously dressed announcer bounced up to the microphone, where she _purred, _then began speaking.

"Welcome, welcome all, to the Reapings for District Eight, Hunting! Are you excited? Who shall be the lucky two to represent District Eight in this year's national event, the Chase Games?"

Rufus was too distracted by the almost furry look her skin had to pay attention. Seriously, what was Serdin thinking?

"And now, for District Eight's first tribute, ladies and gentlemen, put your hands up for…"

There was silence, in which Rufus took this time to yawn rather loudly and polish his guns, shooting a smug look at the shocked peacekeeper, who had failed to detect weapons on him.

"Helen Juriore!"

Everyone looked around weirdly. Who? What? Even Rufus frowned. He'd never heard of anyone named Helen Juriore in District Eight before.

And then he almost dropped his guns, because walking up to the platform was a short male with baggy pants and a scruffy green cap.

Eshe.

What.

* * *

_Muwahhahaha! I decided to switch the orders around. In Eshe's chapter, Rufus will be picked. Now, this isn't symbolizing RufusXEshe or anything, because Eshe isn't paired with anyone. llD I just thought it would an interesting way to bring about the Reapings, since lately I've noticed all the endings to the chapters have gotten rather repetitive, with the whole them-getting-chosen thing.  
Either way, I'll try to update Eshe/Theo/Shera's chapters as soon as I can after this!_

_Review replies: _

_Snowskeeper: You know Homestuck too? 8DDD Wow where have you been all my life-/slapped  
LOLno. I just get all my spoilers from Sirenys, who has a level 100 AB.  
Sorry about that! The one-character-per-chapter votes overwhelmed the two-characters ^^"  
LOLOL. Well, considering it's the Hunger/Chase Games, yes, he is going to die. llD I have something very special planned for him, ohhohohoh~  
YEEEE. Yes they do llD There's just something about suffering characters.  
Wow, amazing. xD  
Well AB has fans! Millions and millions of fans! O n O  
LOL.  
Thank youss ;u;_

_Puriyo: Lolnostahpituproqurl._

_Sirenys rabu: Hahha I'm done-  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BTW! 8D_

_WinterBarrows: Oh gosh stahp /v/ You seriously made me smile and just flop around and die in all this praise.  
I really do want to write books, honestly! But my characters are like, crap. :mingcrey: But thank you anyways, you give me faith in myself /v/ /hugs you  
LOLOL. You okay there? xD;;  
Oh well. I understand how you feel llD When I still played GC, I'd ask Sirenys to play on her Dio, cause wow dat demon. I'd basically like, stare at her Dio and end up dying. llD I'm sorry, Dio is distracting! O m O  
Hahahha wat. I can't—OCs, how write?_

_The Veteran Prince: D'awww. Thank you dear /v/  
Done! Thanks very much, again! ^^_

_hardcoreGSfan: LOL. Oh gosh. That is how like, every person feels when characters they love die. Apart from authors because everyone knows when authors kill off characters they laugh evilly and go have tea. _


	19. Eshe

_Sorry it's been so long I've updated! I recently encountered a double combo of both the flu and author's block. Ah, life is so brilliant sometimes.  
Either way, I'm back and working to bring you this update! ^^_

_Some other notes:_

_-You may notice that DT has a new cover photo (Or maybe not if fanfictiondotnet refuses to update images /: ). 8D The editing is done by the super pro and plain amazing Sirenys, who makes a lot of the pictures and ideas I use in my stories. Seriously, she's like my own little editor person! A round of applause for this new and beau Dangerous Times cover. U v U_

_-Maybe it's just because this is Eshe's chapter and she's boring, but I feel that DT has been boring lately. /:…_

_Either way, this is a super short and dull chapter that probably isn't worth much. llD" I'll try to update the other two ASAP after._

* * *

Chapter Eighteen-Eshe

The soft, musical notes of early morning bird song rings through the closed windows, drawn tight with scruffy curtains, only a few seconds before a notoriously loud beeping fills the dim room. Outside, the flutter of wings belonging to a flock of startled birds can be heard as the pigeons quickly lift into the air to avoid becoming dinner.

An olive-skinned arm creeps out of the covers, effectively slamming onto the small buttons of the rather beaten-looking alarm clock. Silence fills the air for a few minutes. Then, slowly, the covers shift as the sleeper inside slides into a sitting position, looking at the alarm.

"Oh, I wish I hadn't done that."

The voice is deep-pitched, but can be classified as female. The woman groans as she stares at the alarm. "I don't have enough to buy another one, if this one breaks."

She flips it over a few times and stares at the back. "I was lucky to find it in the first place; that dirty secondhand shopkeeper wanted a fortune…"

She mutters on as she gets out of bed, wearing a simple, shapeless grey wool gown. Padding over to the small room curtained off from her bed, she heads to the wooden basin and turns on the water. She waits for it to fill up as she checks what she can of her reflection in the dirty, cracked mirror that lay nearby. She never got around to replacing that.

A slightly round, heart-shaped face with bright green eyes and wavy hair the colour of sandy brown greets her back. She runs her fingers through her tangled hair and begins her everyday task.

"I am not Helen. I am Eshe." Grabbing the comb, she rakes it through.

"Not Helen. Eshe." Toothbrush.

"Nwt Hweln. E—" She gives up trying to speak while brushing, but still stares intensely in the mirror.

"Eshe." She finishes as she rinses.

"I am not Helen, the single magician that needs a husband. I'm Eshe, a male Hunter of District Eight, Hunting." Drying her face in the towel, she faces back to her reflection and repeats one last time.

"Eshe."

Somewhat satisfied, she heads outside where she grabs a net-cap and pulls her hair up into a bun. Next came the shaggy green cap that rested on the tiny bedside table, she tucks her bun under it and sets in on her head.

Her eyes wander to a brown suitcase that rested on the bed. Scattered around it lay paper money, stuff that she'd been looking over last night. A smile flickers onto her face as she remembers that she got lucky last night at the black market, walking away with the largest amount she'd ever gotten since she started being the male known as Eshe. However, it's quickly replaced by a scowl as she remembers she promised all the money to Rufus, the infamous bounty hunter, during their brief meeting yesterday. Well, if they survived the Reaping. In that moment, Helen—or Eshe—had never wished more for anyone to get chosen. It wasn't like anyone would _miss _Rufus, they'd all been held all too closely to one of his guns one too many times to care for the silent half-demon. Right, and there were those rumors about him being the offspring of a forbidden tryst between a demon and a human…

Eshe shook her head. No, she wasn't going to spend the day wondering about Rufus. It was sily. He kept to himself, much like her, and she wasn't one to judge someone for being half-demon when she herself was lying to almost everyone. As much as her old classmates, friends, and mother knew, Helen was dead, and Eshe was some stranger that randomly arrived with extra good senses. Not suspicious at all.

She had her fears, of course. If she was ever found out, she could very well kiss all changes of surviving goodbye. A scandal like this would humiliate the peacekeepers, and god forbid that happen.

Eshe sat herself down in a chair and waited. She'd gotten up rather early for her usual day, until she remembered it was the Reaping day. She wasn't worried, of course. Helen Juriore was dead, and the odds of Eshe Troy being chosen were almost nonexistent.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Helen Juriore!"

_How?_

Eshe lifted her head without concern of being discovered, eyes wild. How could the person known as Helen still be in there? She had framed it so perfectly—the death, the scene, and even a killer if needed. Helen was wiped from existence, with the help of her father.

She looked around, breath coming in quick, ragged gasps. What was she to do?

_Calm down. Okay, calm down. They don't know it's you. They won't know it's you. _

But how she was she to calm down when Helen, the name she'd been given at birth, the person she was supposed to be, the person she didn't want to be, was called?

Silence filled the arena as people looked around. In the back of her mind, Eshe realized that, if she didn't go up, someone else would be chosen and die. And then, when she got back, she'd have to give the money to a smug Rufus.

_But if I do go, I'll end up dead! _Frustrated, Eshe didn't know what to do, and she knew she only had a few seconds to decide. Poverty or death? Guilty life or simply death?

She looked around. Everyone was scanning the crowd. Peacekeepers were angered. Rufus sat in the middle of a bunch of empty chairs—serves him right, the loner—and the announcer looked nonplussed. It was now or never.

Eshe took a step forward. Then, shaking her head and smiling nervously to a guy beside her that looked suspicious, she stepped back.

Stepped forward again. _Argh, no!_ Stepped back.

Finally, Eshe took a large breath. She didn't want someone else to go and die. She didn't want to live with that guilt.

She stepped forward and shoved some thugs aside, walking up to the announcer. Blood pounded in her ears as she slowly removed the cap and let her hair fall loose.

Helen Juriore, in men's clothes.

If she wasn't heading off to die, Eshe would relish in the expressions on the faces of the crowd. Shock, disbelief, even anger. She simply turns her head away and faces the announcer.

"Helen Juriore, correct?" The announcer has a fake smile plastered over her face, as if she doesn't have the slightest clue what's going on, but wants to look good for the camera.

Eshe nods.

"Why are you dressed like…that?" The announcer clicks her tongue as she looks at Eshe's clothes.

"Reasons," Eshe looks down.

The announcer purses her lips, obviously displeased. Briefly, Eshe wonders what she wants. Does the woman want her to jump up and down with joy at being sent off to die?

"Well, what are your feelings towards this? Are you excited? Do you believe you'll win?"

"No."

It's a simple answer, to both the questions. She's seen the other tributes on television. At their hands, she was as good as dead. They weren't brainless prey, they were other humans, and no matter the amount of enchantments she used, she knew she didn't have a chance. Chances were, someone would slice her in half before she even had time to use a barrier—and not a very strong one, at that. Curse the time channeling Samsara took.

"Oh."

It falls into a rather awkward silence, until the announcer clears her throat, shoves Eshe back, and prepares to pick the next tribute.

"Either way," Her fingers dance on the edge of the rim. "the next tribute for District Eight, Hunting, would be…"

She swoops in and picks up another piece of yellow paper, unfolding it and reading the name very clearly.

"Rufus Wilde!"

Eshe wants to slap herself, as she watches the shocked Rufus walk up slowly, mechanically. If only she'd stayed in the crowd. If only she let Helen Juriore remain dead. Then, she would happily dance away, escaping both the Reapings and Rufus after her hard-earned cash. But no, she just _had _to do the good thing for once and go up.

Instead of questioning Rufus, however, the announcer shoves the bounty hunter next to where Eshe stands. Rufus faces the other way, both pretending the other is nonexistent.

"Alright! Before we wrap this up, I have an announcement to make!"

People look around, confused, including the peacekeepers. What announcement? For them, the Reaping was over, and there was no reason to loiter around.

"An inside source from Serdin has arranged this year's Reaping, and Chase Games, for District Eight, Hunting, to be very, _very, _special." The announcer's lips split into a grin that's all-too-wide, and Eshe pokes Rufus. The male turns around stiffly.

"Do you know anything about this?" She hisses.

"No." The answer is blunt and Rufus turns back with an annoyed scoff.

The announcer unrolled a piece of paper that was hidden in her sleeve and begins to read aloud.

"The District of Hunting, registered as District Eight of Serdin's Districts, must pay four tributes instead of the regular two for this year's Chase Games, as debt for an accident that happened exactly twelve years, three months, and one day from this day, where a shipment to District One, Guard, went wrong and exploded upon contact, destroying a harbor."

The place fell silent as everyone slowly registered what was happening.

Four tributes. Not two.

No one was out of the safe zone yet.

* * *

_Actually, I'm going to cut this scene short here and get to the other two chapters. So, review replies will be in Shera's chapter, as I intend to upload them all at once!_


	20. Theo

_So, I realized that this event would fit better if the two extra tributes were actually in it llD. Thus, I give you a three-chapter-scene, and I apologize, to those who have this on author alert, for spamming your inboxes!_

_And to The Veteran Prince: Whhahaslkgdhagd. I'm so sorry I butchered your lovely characters ;n ; I hope these chapters were okay! U v U"""  
Also, I'm not sure if Theo's name is Theo Drane or Theo Drane D? So if you could tell me, that would be very much appreciated. Again, sorry! ^^"_

* * *

Chapter Nineteen- Theo

The place falls silent. Shock fills the room, white terror etched upon the citizens' face as they gaze up at the announcer.

"That's bullshit," Onstage, Rufus is the first to speak, voice dripping with malice. "What do you want with us? Why do you want to pick on this district when we provide the food for your stuck up asses?"

Down in the boys' section, a spiky, red-haired male looks around. Though he couldn't admit to being scared for his well-being, the whole idea of throwing a few extra tributes into the Games for pleasure angered him. And if they choose someone like her…

His clear ruby eyes pinpoint a female staring up at the announcer with wide, soft blue eyes. Her silky blue hair, tied into a ponytail, flies gently in the breeze, and he momentarily takes the time to think on how absolutely _lovely _she looks.

It's funny, he muses, how he never exactly noticed the gentle sparkle in her big, luminous eyes, or the shining lips that part slightly in horror as the announcer reads from the paper. And in that moment, he realizes that the Reaping wasn't over. There was still a chance that she could be chosen, and he couldn't stand that. The only person that had ever been nice to him…

He's shaken out of his stupor by the announcer, who seems quite giddily onstage.

"Oh, isn't this exciting?" She directs her words towards the two already chosen tributes, Helen Juriore and Rufus Wilde. "You'll have extra people to fight, now!"

The male knows the two. Well, how could he not? Rufus Wilde was infamous, the legendary bounty hunter that hunted people rather than animals and wasn't on the good side of the peacekeepers. Even Hunters were wary of him; it was said he could shoot anyone—or anything—within a three mile radius, blindfolded. He doubted that, but he'd long learned never to be too hardy about anything. Keeping an open mind was important, after all.

And as for the female known as Helen, he doesn't know much about, but the girl looks a lot like the one hunter he'd seen around before—what was the name? Eshe?

He decides not to ponder it, but focus on the announcer—the main source of danger, currently. The silly little woman held the power inside her hands to send anyone off to die, and there was a chance _she _could be chosen. Even if the chances were slim—never in his life would he ever, ever, let her increase her chances by taking tesserae—there was still the slight chance it would happen.

He stares at her again. Not in a creepy or stalker way, but more the way an older brother would look down at a sibling. Or perhaps a lover...Oh, no. He shakes his head. That was unlikely to happen. They were friends, and that was how it would remain.

"Well, shall we get to it, then? No use keeping Serdin waiting!" The announcer sings with a cheerful smile bordering on evil, and in the split second everyone took to register she was dipping her fingers once again in the pot, her hand was in and out, and a shining, slightly crumpled yellow paper was in her fingers.

He took a deep breath in and stared at her one more time. To his surprise, she stared back, blue eyes open in fear.

_Do you think…? _She began to mouth, but trailed off.

He shook his head. _Never. _Not if he could help it, anyways.

She nodded, a small smile on her face, seemingly content with the rather thin assurance. _You be safe, too, Theo._

He nodded back, allowing the same small smile to grace his features in an attempt to keep with her temperamental moods. _You too, Shera. Nothing will happen. Don't worry._

And just as his lips form that last word and she takes the time to read it, red mouth twisting in that cute manner she had when she was thinking something over, the announcer opened the paper and read.

"Theo Drane!"

* * *

_Oh ho ho ho. I love my irony._

_Either way, I really apologize, The Veteran Prince, if this wasn't like anything you had in mind ;u;"" It's just, when you sent me the info for Theo and Shera, they seemed too cute to go to waste without being really close friends. U v U"""_


	21. Shera

_And the last installment in the three-part District Eight Reaping chapters!  
I kinda feel like I left Rufus out, but when I was sick, I had a lot of time to plan the chapters, so that's kind of why I'm uploading all of a sudden llD I apologize for spamming your inboxes!_

_And wow, chapter twenty. I never thought Dangerous Times would reach one hundred reviews before it reached twenty chapters! Thank you to all the lovely, lovely reviewers u vu I couldn't of updated without you guys! :,D_

* * *

Chapter Twenty- Shera

"Theo Drane!"

The name is called, and though there's a moment of relief that settles in Shera's heart when it isn't her own, it quickly turns to horror as she blanches, face white as her hands fly up to her mouth and the world seems to move a little too quickly.

She sees peacekeepers move towards Theo, aimlessly throwing aside other people in the process. They grip his arms and she half-expects to see him fight them off, but then she remembers no, no, he _can't, _even Theo's not stupid enough to disobey Serdin's will.

Which leaves her as the only person to help him. But she can't, she knows she can't, and as much as she wishes, she just can't. As soon as his name was called, his fate wasn't in his own hands anymore.

Tears start to form as she imagines watching Theo, Theo, the weird guy that no one really talked to, the one guy that always sat at the back, glaring at everyone, the one that preferred to hunt alone, her best friend, the one she had to coax out of his invisible little barrier that he built around himself, keeping everyone at bay, and the only person she really felt connected to. Images swim before her eyes in the blur of tears and sudden motion as she imagines watching him on the large television in the middle of town, fighting, bleeding, dying.

And everything comes at once; the places they used to meet, the talks they used to have, the teasing from others that they should just get married already. Honestly, to her, their relationship was currently at friendship level, and now, with this event, she doubted it would go beyond that.

And with that thought she wants to fall down and weep, just lie down and cry her eyes out. Ignorant of all the snickering peacekeepers or sympathetic girls, only with those doomed thoughts that seem to repeat again and again no matter how much she tried to chase them out.

And in that moment, as she rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, hoping they weren't too red, she catches his eye.

_Don't worry._

She can read the message etched clearly in his eyes and she smiles a tearful smile. Trust Theo to worry for her when he himself was being catered towards certain death.

It wasn't that she didn't believe he could win. Shera had seen firsthand what Theo was capable of, and she had to admit it was impressive. But say he did win, and he did come back to her, and there was a grand wedding with other victors as guests and riches worth Serdin nobles. Even so, Shera wasn't stupid. She knew the Chase Games took a toll on everyone, and the victors themselves were the ones who were haunted most of all. Most of them fell to drink or drugs, and she thinks of one guy from District Five who couldn't sleep alone and had to crawl into other victors' beds at night, much to the annoyance of the ones who preferred to be alone. The Chase Games were inhuman and haunting, to everyone.

For a moment, she wants to volunteer. She takes a step forward, feeling the rough fabric of her white cloak brush against her ankles, but with a sinking feeling in her chest, she realizes that, while she was lost in thought, the announcer had already finished interviewing Theo and he was now standing beside Eshe and Rufus, the other two tributes.

She had missed her chance.

How could she be so impossibly stupid? Theo was always looking out for her, caring for her, and just when she had the chance to actually do something for him, she missed it.

"And now, the next tribute!"

In her lament, Shera failed to hear the announcer calling for the next tribute.

And as the announcer picks up the paper and speaks, everything seems to go in slow motion.

The announcer parts her lips and reads in a clear voice, as peacekeepers get ready and everyone sucks in a breath.

"Shera Galciem!"

Five syllables.

Peacekeepers surge forward and grab a dazed Shera, almost dragging her onto the platform. Her eyes flicker around, first resting on an indifferent Rufus, to Helen, who's looking down. Theo, who is so desperately trying to catch her eyes, but she merely gazes over him. Peacekeepers settle her next to the announcer.

"Oh, how exciting! Shera Galciem, correct? Oh, how do you feel being the last tribute for District Eight, Hunting? The fourth tribute? Someone who isn't supposed to be here?"

"Um—" She's cut off.

"If she isn't supposed to be here, why is she here?" Theo demands, red eyes blazing with anger as he eyes the announcer straight on.

"Oh?" The announcer's small pink mouth spreads into a O shape, her hand fluttering up to rest just above her breasts. "Is this drama?" She takes a exaggerated intake of breath. "Do you two know each other?"

"Y-yes," Shera answers, keeping her voice soft.

"So, is Theo Drane your knight in shining armour?"

"N-No!" Shera squeaks, a faint blush rising on her cheeks as she stares rather awkwardly at her shoes.

"So," The announcer seemed to sense that she wouldn't get anything out of the shy girl, and instead turns to challenge Theo. "You don't want her fight, do you?"

"I don't want anyone to fight." He glowers.

"But why not her?"

"She's a friend."

"Just a friend?"

"You wipe that smile off your face before I impale you."

"Oh! How protective!" The announcer takes a step back, pretending to be overwhelmed as she spins towards the cameras.

"The cold, but also silently caring Theo Drane stands up not for his being, but the delicate maiden soul of his partner, Shera Galciem! What will happen to these star-crossed lovers, separated by the hand of fate, but so believing in each other? Serdin, there hasn't been a whirlwind romance like this in years! Must the cruel, but exciting yearly kill or be killed event known as the Chase Games, a favoured sport in Serdin, separate the tributes of the Districts forever, or are we to rise together against rules, weighing other's love against our own entertainment? Citizens of Serdin, find out all this and more, in the interviews of all the tributes, coming soon!"

Shera glanced at Theo, who looked stunned at the announcer's words. Looking down once again, she fiddled her fingers together as her head spun with news.

She was a tribute.

She was a tribute, going to die.

She was a tribute, going to die while fighting against Theo.

She was a tribute, going to die while fighting against Theo in the Chase Games.

"Oh Theo," she softly whispered, more for herself than actual said male. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

* * *

_And, that's a wrap!_

_I'm sorry. I had to pull the whole Katniss-Peeta thing. llD""_

_Review Replies~_

_Puriyo: Asfkalghksdggdha. Stahpp. /v/. I butchered your precious baby ;n;_

_Iamochinchindesu: I'm not sure what to say. _

_Snowskeeper: LOL. Good luck with that.  
Non! O n O  
Yes it is ;u;  
LOLYes.  
Pftt—llD"" I was only kidding, though-  
LOLohmigosh, seriously? I'm inspired to get to level 100, now. /punted to Pluto  
Oh gosh that chair. Sirenys made me drag my butt onto maple to get that chair, and whenever I'm sitting on it I just stare at it and end up laughing. It's so disturbing but funny.  
You can never have enough fans! O n O. They're very handy when it's hot outside—Oh. Wrong kind of fan, I suppose llD  
Either way, you can never have too many fans, both alive and inanimate! _

_WinterBarrows: llD…I dunno, to me, Eshe is really dull…  
Aasgdlkasgkag that's exactly how I feel when I write about my OCs! ;n ; I'm kinda glad to know I'm not just overly paranoid and other authors have these problems, too llD"  
D'aww. U v U Thankjs! Though, Eshe isn't much. XD;;  
Ohmigosh. The Sellion set is so…asdklghaskghagsd. I swear GC made it to troll the female players. Dio. Hnnggg.  
I know what you mean, though I8 Dio's voice acting is kinda…  
Also, since I discovered Dio from Mad Father, I've concluded all guys named Dio are so sexy or cute. U v U If only they were real.  
/v/ Oh please. Stahp! I can't handle all this praise /v/  
LOL. Actually, when I was writing this, I had an image in my mind that was close to that. Great minds think alike!  
(And I think we just made up British Gentleman!Rufus. I approve./slapped)_

_hardcoreGSfan: Yes! It's Rufus! The beau bounty hunter finally comes uvu  
Thank you~ _

_Purple Porch: Thank you /v/ And yes! He is! Rufus is such a cutie with his beautiful hair and guns. /v/ _


	22. Asin

_Wow, it really seems like such a long time since I've updated! _

_Either way, in other news, I recently finished all my schoolwork and everything, so expect often updates! C:_

_Oh, and I recently went to watch The Hobbit with Sirenys. I guess you can say I've joined another fandom. Oh Kili and Fili feels. llD _

_A little note: Asin—or the unnamed boy for most of this chapter—is not being deprived of food. When someone has starved, their stomach grows naturally small, so too large an intake of food can be fatal. They're keeping him on small rations to slowly get him used to eating food again. _

_I apologize for the long, run-on paragraphs of this chapter! I hope I didn't discourage you too much u v u""_

_Also, wow, another plot twist. You guys must be getting tired of my plot twists. Last one, I promise! They do play some importance to the latter parts of Dangerous Times. llD_

_Let the chapter begin~!_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One: Asin

"We found him yesterday. We still don't know how he managed to live for so long like that. Though, by his current condition, it would be much longer before the guy finally passes on."

"Well, luck does tend to favourite the weird ones. Glad he's going, though. Always gave me the creeps."

"Don't know why Tairin insisted we help the kid, though. Probably upset Jin has been spending so much time with Victor.

"He picks the strangest ones to get fussy about." A snort.

"What can I say? The man's old. Humor him before he goes senile."

"If only he would do that quicker."

"We can all only dream."

A weird beeping noise, like some sort of alarm going off.

"Shoot, looks like it's my turn to feed the little animal. See you outside."

"Don't let him bite! "

"Very funny. Chill, he's too retarded to eat, much less attack."

"I know. Just teasing. See you outside."

"Yeah, whatever."

The sliding of a large door releases small beams of light, dancing across the floor of a small, closed-off room. The footsteps of someone echo across the otherwise silent area. In the corner, chains rattle in response to the oncoming stranger.

"Geeze, calm down," A young Silver Knight, one of the rookies, answers to the noise, thought he knows it is pointless. The stranger—the _animal_—they found in the woods hadn't spoken a word since they took him in. Tairin had instructed them to think of the violet-haired boy as more of a pet, than a guest. Which was why he was here now. To feed the class 'pet'.

He walked further in, rattling the bowl filled with scraps of meat. Tairin had been firm about feeding the boy; nothing but small amounts of leftovers would do. Though it seemed cruel to keep the boy half-starved, no one really felt the need to complain on the wild boy's part.

"Dinner."

He sets the bowl down on the cold floor, keeping an eye on the figure that was curled in the corner. When they found him, the boy had been completely and utterly mad, uncaring who or what he attacked as long as he spilled blood and gotten food. It had given everyone the chills, and even nightmares to those who were actually attacked head on. Still not deemed completely sane, all the recruits were to watch themselves when they fed him.

The figure does not move, still huddled up and absolutely silent. Glowing, strange red eyes bore from the dark corner, effectively scaring the Silver Knight. The male jumps and rather hastily makes for the door, closing it firmly behind his person and sighing in relief. Meeting his friend outside, the two headed off to talk more about his most recent ordeal with the wild boy they were keeping.

Inside, the _creature _began to stir. A thin, bony arm slides out of the gloom, with fingers so thin they seemed like sticks. The boy slowly crawls out of his space, stretching stiff limbs. Sniffing the air cautiously, much like an animal creeping out of his cave, he wraps his hand around the bowl and tries to lift it, but decayed limbs worn from hunger and inactivity fail him as he drops the kitchenware, clasping his hands over his ears as the bowl drops to the floor, making a noise that rings around the spacious room. The male begins to shrink back to his corner, violent hair flying in his face as he scrambles for the safety of the wall. He crashes into the iron wall with closed eyes, and as the effect of the hit settles in and pain throbs in his head, the boy wraps a wasted arm around his ribs, curling into a pitiful ball on the chilled, hard floor.

He is so, so confused. What happened? He cannot remember the past few days, at all. Instead, he wonders back to his adolescent days, as a child more animal than human, hunting prey and eating it raw, sleeping under blankets of mud and leaves, deep in the forests of District Nine, Fighter.

And he remembers on a week of particularly bad hunting—in which he had gone five days with only rainwater to drink—he stumbled—or crawled—into the open, dazed and drive only by his insane hunger, towards the tent that sat, all alone, right in the middle of the open field, where delicious aromas of indescribable flavour wafted out.

He'd attacked, uncaring of who or what lay inside, because all he knew was that needed food, he needed it now.

The image flashes vividly across his dulled mind—a group of fairly boys armed with weapons of all sorts, sitting around a fire as a large turkey cooked and an old man that sat at the head of the makeshift table told tales in a strange language that, for some reason, stirred a long forgotten memory and sense of longing in his head.

But that all didn't matter, because there was that turkey, pump and skinned, just sitting there, and he wondered why it lay above the fire. He didn't like a fire. He'd had one too many close calls with burning forests from Serdin's machines and stomachs from burned flesh to feel safe around it. Did they want to burn the bird? Did they think prey was just for games and could be wasted away?

By now, they'd noticed him and were beginning to grow concerned. One stood up and asked something of him, in a demanding, loud tone he did not like. He leaped back and hissed—baring rows of yellowed, broken teeth and slightly sharp incisors.

And then the male jumped back in surprise, turning to the older man that sat at the far end, shouting out two words.

"Master Tairin!"

Tairin. He doesn't know why he remembers that particular word. Perhaps it's because it's a silly sound, unlike the bits of human speech, English, he's heard before. He doesn't know what it's referring to or what it means, but at the sound the elder stood up, fixing serious eyes on the male.

The boy takes this time to remember why he's here in the first place. The turkey. At this slight pause, he flails forward, knocking aside people as a desperate last fight, using all his strength to grab that piece of meat, that delicious food that made him drool just looking at it.

But just as he moves forward, hands outstretched, just as he was thinking that, today, today he gets a whole turkey to himself, and he can taste the soft, chewy flesh on his tongue and the rush of blood down his throat, as his teeth crush veins and suck on bones, and the drool starts running, but no, it isn't gross or anything, because it's happiness, happiness for finally, food, _food, _and every last bit counts—

And then he's restrained by a pair of arms that seem too large to be normal—or is it just that his own thin appendage is too weak?

The person holding him grips him tightly, causing him to cry out at the sudden pressure on his feeble arms, thin and weak from lack of nutrients. A tone that he recognizes as belonging to the old man—Tairin—tells him one sentence before he feels cold fingers on the back of his neck, then a sudden reel as the world spins and he falls down, deep into a darkness he rather enjoyed—for once, the pains of hunger did not wake him from his slumber.

And he woke to find himself in this room, chained by his ankle to the far wall. He couldn't understand the concept of capture, and had first thought the place a gift, a home, shelter from the rain and storm. That was, until he found the silence unnerving and the chains suddenly too tight for comfort.

So he rushed forwards, hands clawing at the air before him, but was pulled back by the iron bindings, swept face first onto the ground, where he lay, stunned. One hand wrapped around his aching stomach, which felt like an invisible foe was attempting to eat his organs whole. Even as isolated as he was, he picked up the sweet scent of food, and his mouth watered as he groaned slightly, mind filled with images of food, sweet food.

Only a few words come to his mind, and none of them good. He was trapped, starved and wasted, in a place ruled by strange men. He'd never seen so many humans all gathered in one place, and it was starting to freak him out.

The unnamed wild boy buries his head deeper into the pavement, wishing to disappear. He groaned again, his whole body feeling suddenly tired, as he slid across the wall slowly, coming to a stop as a curled ball on the floor. Beady eyes blinked at the dark celling once more, before everything went dark.

_~Dangerous Times~_

He still didn't know what he was doing here, nor why the people insisted on giving him enough food to survive, not enough to satisfy his gnawing hunger. Did they want to torment him for all of his life? What had he ever done to deserve something like this?

As he picks up a scrap of meat, dangling the food before his nose as he sniffs it. Of course, it's not poisoned, but it has this scent about it that he can't describe—somehow, this 'cooked' item seemed to so much more mouth watering than raw. He still couldn't fully understand 'cooking'. Though he'd picked up scraps of conversation by listening intensely to the chatter of guards and putting one and one together with his limited knowledge of vocabulary, he managed to come up with the theory that 'cooking' seemed to be only lighting prey on fire, then eating that. He couldn't understand why they would think something like that _normal, _but he felt too tired to demand or ponder.

In less than a minute, his pitiful meal is finished and he rolls onto his back, shifting his legs so that the chain around his ankle does not scratch around the bone.

It does not work. No matter how he tries to forget it, the feeling of the chain being there remains. He is still trapped, trapped and weakened, for god knows how long in this wretched prison, kept by reasons unknown to him, and with no one to talk to, save from the man that landed him here in the first place.

The old man had introduced himself as Asin, Asin Tairin. He came to the grey room often, sitting down and offering him some food—beef jerky, vegetables, and occasionally a sweet sugary cube that was like nothing he had ever tasted before—all of which he would begrudgingly accept.

The boy did not appreciate the elder's visits—they only made him even more aware of his growing lust for the outside world, the free, green fields and large trees, the small, stupid rabbits, and even the heavy, lethal woodland bears.

Tairin talked of other things, as well. The boy soon found out the name of his captors; an organization named the Silver Knights, founded by Asin Tairin and Victor—two great fighting masters with different views of the world, come together for one sole purpose—to defeat Serdin.

Serdin. The boy has heard of the place, even as isolated as he was living out in the woods. He knows Serdin is evil, responsible for driving him out of so many forests, burning the skies with a clear red haze, for killing innocent animals, causing the sudden drop of prey in the forests.

So when Tairin had mentioned Serdin, let the foul name slip from his tongue, the boy had reacted on impulse. Growling, with a tone too deep and raw to be human, he raked his bloodied fingers across the concrete floor, causing fresh wounds to open and long fingernails to snap. He winced and thought better of it, stopping his actions to gaze at Tairin with large, unblinking red eyes, as he stuck his aching finger into his mouth and began to suck to relieve the pain.

As he wet his wound, Tairin had been watching the sudden event with interested eyes, slightly leaning forward.

"Boy," he began, "does it not hurt?"

The unnamed boy stared at Tairin, surprised. Of course it hurt! Did the man take him for a fool?

Very slowly, he nodded his head twice, just enough to indicate he'd heard and understood.

"Then why do you not cry out as normal boys of your age?"

His age? He blinks, red eyes slightly glassy. He doesn't understand what Tairin means by 'normal boys of his age'. There were others like him?

Tairin watched him steadily, a small glint in his wrinkled eyes. This boy was calm and skilled in battle, but could be easily angered to burning rage, And he'd liked the bloodlust he'd seen in the boy's eyes when he had mentioned Serdin. The foolish, animal-like anger he'd gotten a glimpse of could be turned into a weapon. A weapon that could be used to achieve his goals.

"Boy…"

The unnamed male stared at the elder, limp purple hair scattered around his neck.

"How would you like to be a Silver Knight?"

_~Dangerous Times~_

It was funny, how things could go about so normally. He could be born, named, with a set age, and raised in a loving family. Then he'd meet other boys and hang out, forming bonds as the years passed. Soon enough, a girl would appear, slowly inching her way into his heart. Or perhaps even a male, and that would be fine too. No matter what gender, after a few years of courtship, they would move in together and marry at the nearby chapel. After another few years of settling in and pure joy, came the whispering promises in sweaty nights, and young voices would fill the creaking, dark nights. Before he knew it, his back would begin to ache, the stairs would seem all too long, hair would turn into silver cobwebs, and children suddenly seemed so much older. With the silent spin of time, death seemed to only draw near faster and faster with each forgotten, repetitive day.

That was a normal life, lived by humans for as long as the current generation could remember. Every ticking second was a countdown to darkness, and it was futile to resist. There is an argument about the purpose of mankind. Are we really the top of the food chain, holding the fate of animals and Gaia with the wars and designs we make? But why must we hold our jeweled crowns so separated from the gentle does, when we do exactly what they do: grow up, find love, have children, and death. With each generation, and each passing second of new life and final rest, one normal life was marked complete in the immorality of time.

But there were also the special cases, people like him. Born into a forest with no chances of survival, he'd lived using the natural instincts of the human brain, combined with the smarts he learned by watching animals. He does not hold himself above anything, not even the common rat, because to him, the rat is smart enough to find food, brave enough to wander out and follow their sense trying to get the day's meal for the family. It is determined enough to give birth to so many young, and daring at heart to run across the wife's feet. But in the end, they die, as all things do, and the recycle repeats; because once something is set in the hours of evolution, it remains.

He ponders such deep thoughts sometimes, alone in the shelter of the corner. He knows things, he observes. Though he is well aware Tairin and his company, the Silver Knights—to which he was now a member of—all deemed him dumb, he thinks that it is not him who is dumb, but them. He is not hating, simply speaking what he believes, indifferent to the world and its people. The Silver Knights go about things in ways he believes to be wrong, and often he finds it difficult to control his chagrin. But Tairin's steady hand on his shoulder always relaxes the boy, preventing the calamity to happen.

The boy finds it strange he went from having nothing to having everything in the space of a few days. As soon as he'd agreed to join the Silver Knights—which took some thinking, he was not at first willing to join his captors—Asin had rushed him out of the room, where the Knights had applied a strange, painful liquid to his bleeding wounds, They'd stripped the dirty, foul-smelling clothes off his person, washed him and cut his nails and hair, then led him like a prepped puppy to the large tent that was Tairin's quarters. The old man was delighted to see the boy in crisp, clean attire and handed him a cup filled to the brim with fresh goat's milk, cream still floating in lazy circles on top. And he'd sat down, positively alive with joy, uncaring about anything other than the full cup he held in his two hands, because the cup was rather heavy and his muscles strained against holding it. And then, looking around, the boy noticed the two others in the room.

One was a male, with red hair like scarlet flames, and luminous yellow eyes, that seemed to glare straight into his person. The other was a female, dressed in clothes much alike the male's, with silky white hair and round, kind brown eyes.

"Who's this?" The male questioned, staring straight at Tairin. The female kept silent but the boy felt her eyes on him, watching his every move with prepared inquisitiveness.

"Someone we found in the woods."

"We are adopting lost children, now?" The female inquired, not scornfully, only wishing to know.

"No, Sion," Tairin replied, with the same careful tone piped with unknown emotions, and the boy concluded the female was named Sion. "He is…interesting."

Sion dipped her head respectfully, but the small crease of her brow showed she was not fully at ease with the varied answer. "As long as he doesn't get in the way of training, Master Tairin, whomever to recruit is your decision."

"You are not fully pleased with his appearance, are you?" Tairin was only too quick to question the hidden doubts that trailed behind in the female's tone.

"Of course not," The red haired male snapped, eyes blazing. "Look at him. He's freakishly skinny, has a dazed, dumb look to his eyes, and no manners! The Silver Knights will not progress forwards if you insist on gathering those who will hold us back."

"Jin," Both Sion and Tairin snapped sharply, eyes fixed on the male.

"Don't speak disrespectfully to the founder of our Knights," Sion concluded, eyes met in a strange gaze held by Jin. The boy had not been able to follow the fast, deviating speech, but he understood body language well enough to know a hidden message, perhaps an arrangement to meet later and leer behind Asin's back, was sent.

"Whatever you say," Jin shoots the boy a disgusted look, then back to Tairin. "I'll be off, now."

And with that, Jin of the Silver Knights slipped out of the tent, the white bands on his head accessory swinging around as he marched away.

"And I as well."

Without a second glance back, Sion followed, the swinging of head garments much more controlled than the previous.

Left alone, the boy spun back to Tairin, who had his hands pressed together, knuckles white.

"My subordinates think me foolish to help you, when you do not even have a name," he said quietly, plainly, in response to the boy's questioning look.

"Are you?"

His own voice surprised him. The words felt strange, unnatural on his tongue.

Asin Tairin stares at him, his tired eyes lined with creases of crow's feet meeting the boy's glassy, unmoving red gaze.

"I don't know. Am I?"

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Jin Kaien!"

"No!"

The brutal, ripped scream echoes from Tairin. The elder jumps up from his seat, and, before anyone can process what's happening, Tairin punches the television in, and the marred screen flickers feebly for half a second before going dead.

A horrible silence fills the air, with only Tairin's bleeding fist and heavy panting to assure there was still life in the small room, where all the Silver Knights had packed together to watch the Reapings of District Seven, Talent, where their very own, Jin Kaien, had been sent a few months ago on a mission to represent peace between the Silver Knights and Serdin. The boy had protested against it, but they had not listening. And now they paid the price.

Very slowly, Silver Knights began to empty the room, leaving only Tairin, his face filled with anguish and disbelief, and the unnamed boy, who sat on the floor, crossed legged and unmoving.

The boy creeps to sit beside the elder as soon as the last Knight leaves, a silent but reassuring body. Tairin pulled the boy close, body shaking with silent sobs, and the boy is at a loss of what to do. He has never seen the salty streams of water that drip down his mentor's face, and is completely helpless. Was it bad he still felt indifferent? He couldn't quite bring himself to comfort the lamenting Silver Knight.

Tairin mutters something onto his shoulder, voice muffed by the cloth and the man's sobs. He pauses to take a shaky breath, his own shoulders heaving. "What is Serdin doing? Next thing you know, they'll be adding all ages into the fray."

Looking back on it, the unnamed boy—who now has a name, a stolen name—did not realize how scary accurate the elder that was once known as Asin Tairin had been.

_~Dangerous Times~_

The Reapings for District Nine, Fighter, were not normal. Everything had started out perfectly fine—Asin had woken the boy to tell him he was also registered in the Reapings, as Boy X. The elderly Silver Knight prepped him, dressing him up in a fine black suit and telling him about the Chase Games, the event that had taken his oldest and best pupil, Jin Kaien.

"Be smart. Don't show anger or fear."

The elder's voice shook slightly as he talked, but he managed to give the boy a small smile of reassurance.

The boy stood, silent and rigid, giving a small nod to show he understood. That would be easy. He had never been good at showing emotions, anyways.

"Listen to me," Asin gripped him on the shoulders, tone unusually serious and eyes hard. "Whatever you do, don't volunteer. Even if it's your friend. Don't volunteer."

The boy nodded. That was easy, too. He had no friends.

Soon, Asin finished and pushed him out of the tent, where he joined the solemn-faced male Knights and set a steady trek to the Reaping arena, a place just north of District Nine. Along the way, he caught snippets of gossip from young Knights trying to lighten the mood.

"This year's Chase Games will be the end of us all, it's ludicrous!"

"I heard they're planning another 'surprise'."

"Oh lord. Those never go well."

"What do you mean?"

"Haven't you been watching the Reapings lately?"

"God, no. No T.V. in the barracks where I'm assigned. It's like hardcore hell there."

"Well, there was this one popular kid from One that was picked. Rumor leaks out he's in prison for rebellion or something like that."

"Try to break away like that purple haired girl from Two?"

"Wasn't that her mom?"

"Oh, right, and they shot the crazy bat-woman on the spot, too."

A crude laugh. "They also picked that dainty blue haired girl that had that freak attack?"

"Right. Bet she'll go first, along with that fainting boy from Four."

"God, those elves. Think they're all high and mighty, but they're actually just weak little things."

"Even royalty isn't safe this year! A princess and chief from Six went, too."

"Demon royalty, huh?" A low whistle. "Whoever's picked is gonna have one hard time beating that."

"Knowing your luck, it'll be you!"

Laughter erupts from the Knights up front, who joke and punch each other like this is any other day to be marching to battle.

"Either way, what's happening is not good."

"Huh?"

"Don't you know? That stuff with Jin. Dammed Serdin broke their promise, the dirty swine."

Silence filled the air as every Knight hung their head for Jin, the Silver Knight Elite that they had all, one time or another in their lives, looked up to and aspired to be like.

_Then the four tributes from Eight, _the boy thinks, looking up at the rather grey sky. He wondered what Serdin's 'surprise' was. Lately, Serdin had been filling up the Reapings with 'surprises', and their only excuse was to make it more exciting for the citizens. But it didn't feel that way, no, not at all. The Queen, Enna, hardly appeared on television anymore, her advisors hardly gave public speeches. Even this year's victory parade, for the victors of the last Chase Games, had been cancelled. It was like the palace of Serdin had completely closed itself off from the world, and he was left only to wonder what happened. Whatever it was, it could not be good. Even the sky seemed to be weeping for what lay ahead.

_~Dangerous Times~_

They stood, waiting, at the center of the arena, burning under the glares of the citizens of District Nine. The Silver Knights were not entirely liked nor welcomed by the majority of the District, and they were hardly seen together, save for the Games.

When the sleek black Serdin train pulled up, heads turned to the walking figure, whom so many assumed to be the announcer.

And in unison, from both people and Knights alike, gasps echoed around the place as everyone reconized the walking figure, some faster than others.

With a long train of pure silk training behind her dainty steps with slippered feet in velvet, blue robes lined with gold lace swept the slightly dirty announcer's plate as she made her way up, pale, long fingers with elegantly painted blue fingernails and gold rings as decoration grasping the soft blue silk gown lined with sable fur and satin petticoats underneath. A large, pure golden spectre was in her other hand, a magnificent amethyst, purple like the colour of royalty, shimmered off the light of the train's headlights and blinded the people below. Long, silky minty green hair flowed down her back, held in place by an elegant white-blue wimple.

Enna, the Queen of Serdin.

The violet-haired boy had seen her on television once or twice. She never went out of Serdin, or was even seen in Serdin's everyday society. So what was she doing here?

He frowned. Everyone seemed perfectly convinced that was Enna, but something felt wrong to him. Call it an animal's natural instinct, but she seemed unnatural. Of course, the people of Serdin were all classified as freaks of nature, but that kind of unnatural was not the impression he got from Enna. This strange, unnatural scent was like nothing he'd ever felt before. It was almost…dark.

And that's when he placed it. Her eyes! He remembers clearly the Enna on television had large, sea-green eyes, tinted by blue. But this Enna, standing before all of them, had cold, calculating red eyes.

Before he can ponder it any futher, Enna raised her arms in a gesture as if embracing all of them, and began to speak, in a high, clear voice that was bordering the thin line between excellence and insanity.

"Hello, people of District Nine! I, Enna, Queen of Serdin and blessed by none other than Gaia herself, have a message I wish to convey, for this year's Chase Games!

"I have to say, my advisors and I have been hard at work to make this Chase Game all the more exciting for districts beginning to cause troubles due to listlessness." Her eyes glittered as she looked down at the Silver Knights, and a feeling began to grow in the boy's stomach. This wasn't what they wanted. Serdin were fighting back in ways that no one could stop.

"We have answered your desperate cries for blood with exactly what you desire: bloodshed! From this day onwards, starting at this very moment, the Chase Games shall be lawless! Come, elders. Come, royals. Come, killers, prostitutes, mentors.

"So fight, all you tributes, fight! Battle until there remains nothing but a bloody stump of meat, beaten raw and broken into pieces. Abandon your reason, your relationships, your sanity, your humanity. For there's only one thing you can do, and that is to bow down to Serdin's absolute rule!

_ "Happy Chase Games!"_

The Queen ended on a high note, voice ringing across to stadium. An insane, lustful look filled her cold eyes, glinting like shards of ruby. She smiled sadistically, smug with pleasure at the shocked audience.

In the crowd, the boy couldn't fully register what was happening. Enna's words were too quick and shrill, and he'd been distracted by the darkness that seemed to flitter around her figure. He did not know he was sensing black magic, an ancient art lost to even District Two, Magic. All he knew was that something was very wrong indeed.

Tairin had been right. What was Serdin doing?

"And now, my peacekeepers shall fetch the rest of the district!" Enna gestured to the watching guards, and peacekeepers immediately scattered, muttering words of loyalty to the queen.

The boy relaxed. With such a large number of people, his chances of being picked were nonexistent. Whatever Serdin was doing, it didn't concern him. He was still indifferent. Why should he care for others when he could safely steer himself out from line of fire?

_~Dangerous Times~_

Thirty minutes later, all citizens of District Nine were gathered, squashed into the Reaping arena. A couple elders had gone crazy upon first sight of the place, shouting and kicking at peacekeepers. Vile oaths were torn to the Queen's person, yells that this event was unfair, unjust.

However, any clamor of rejection or rebellion was quickly silenced when peacekeepers rounded up three elders, ten adults, six teenagers, five children and two Silver Knights, forcing them onto their knees. And then the firing squad stepped forward, and without a moment's hesitation, swiftly shot the kneeling group with the stunned spectators watching.

Stepping over the spray of blood onto white marble, Enna lifted her skirts and prodded one of the dead with her delicate foot. Confirming them dead, she began to speak, as if nothing had happened.

"Now, shall we start?"

She bounced up to the overly-loaded Reaping ball, where tiny slips of paper rested. Rummaging around for a bit, enjoying the look of absolute terror on the silent crowd's face, she smiled once and pulled out a single piece of paper.

Unfolding it slowly, painfully slowly, she read.

"Asin Tairin."

And everything seems to fall apart. The boy deems it unfair, this whole business. God, karma, fate, whatever made up the events of life were simply teasing. Jin had been picked for Seven, Tairin for Nine. Master and student had to face against each other in a forced battle with no way out. They were like dogs, simply dogs pitted against one another while elegant Serdin residents laughed up in their gold-lined chairs.

He meets Tairin's gaze, holds it for just a second, as the old mentor steps stiffly out of the crowd, and the boy can swear, he swears that, for just a moment, he sees the looks of fear cross the normally calm eyes, a flicker of a gasp cross the serene, grim mouth. And, as crazy as it is, it occurs to the boy that the Games may be bugged. It was definitely strange, the ironic choice of tributes. Which sadistic, heartless person had the idea to pick all of these people, friends to each other, childhood buddies since birth, and force them to fight against each other with no way out?

And then his second thought is that, no, he can't let Tairin go up. What would happen to him if Tairin died? What would happen to Tairin? The elder had no chance against the younger tributes. Though Asin Tairin was the founder of the Silver Knights and one of the top fighters, even he couldn't escape the aches and tolls old age took upon each and every body.

For just a moment, the boy considers volunteering. But then Tairin's words come back to him, from earlier that day, some time that had seemed so long ago.

But then yet another thought comes on his overworking brain, and perhaps the craziest idea begins to form.

He was unnamed, unknown to this District. He couldn't volunteer.

But he could replace.

And just as Tairin takes a step forward, enough to come out of the crowd and be recognized as the tribute, the unnamed boy jumped onstage.

"Asin Tairin?" Enna eyed him up and down.

"No! He's—" The real Tairin tried to protest, but was quickly jumped on and silenced by the other Silver Knights, who dragged the old man back and gave the boy—who now had a name, Asin Tairin the Second—a grim nod and mouthed thanks. The Knights were only too happy to let a strange, mental boy go die, instead of their beloved mentor.

"Yes," he says, taking a moment to realize that now, he had a name, and it was quite a lovely name.

"Who's he?" Enna looked pointedly at Asin Tairin, the elder.

"My mentor," Asin Tairin, the boy, replied back simply. It would take some getting used to, having a name, and also the name of his mentor.

Enna stared at him once more, than snapped her fingers. Peacekeepers gripped his arms. Tairin—the elder—made a loud, angry noise as Asin—the boy—was dragged away, towards the base of the train.

"Go on now. Her majesty doesn't want the tributes standing around."

So Asin climbed the stairs, and, without a second glance back, headed into the train and towards his tribute room, unsure how to feel. Perhaps he should be angry at himself, for acting on impulse, or at the Silver Knights, for betraying him and letting him go get himself killed. Maybe he should be happy he was just named, but what use was a name if he was going to die soon?

In the end, he concluded he felt no different than he had earlier that day, when he'd be sure he'd never end up on this train. Perhaps it was an inability to feel after living with woodland creatures for so long, or that he was just scared to show his inner self. Maybe he actually didn't care at all, or maybe he wanted to die.

He was simply indifferent, as he always was.

And he'd win this silly 'Game' being simply indifferent.

* * *

_I'm sorry! I probably just ruined Asin for everyone. Writing characters in character, how do? _

_Review Replies~_

_Puriyo: /throws more plot twists at you/ Here have them all for your pro stories. /v/_

_Snowskeeper: Wot—  
Yes /v/  
Ahh—No /v/ Please, they're not as amazing as you describe them to be! And by all means, go ahead and spam/PM me about Jackie! I love hearing about him /v/ He's thoughtfully created and expertly developed!  
/v/ Oh please. You make my work sound so much better than it actually is u vu  
LOLwhut. How can you ban someone from emotions?  
LOLOL. That headcanon.  
LOLYes.  
Why not? O n O _

_Sirenys: Ch 19: Asadlgkdsag non have you seen your writing skills pl  
Ch 20: LOL. Exactly why Karkat is my spirit animal ouo And no, it's not 24/7 llD Only when I'm mad, and I don't get mad a lot.  
Ch 21: LOlwhut. Okay-  
Also, thanks for three reviews /v/_

_hardcoreGSfan: I'm glad I was able to make you laugh! u v u  
LOLYes. Sirenys and I did some calculations, and since we have so many tributes and mentors, plus the actual Chase Games and the ending, it's going to be atleast __**70 chapters. **__So buckle up for the ride, my faithful fans! u vu /cheers  
Or get off the bandwagon here, I don't mind. ;A ;_

_Meranii: Oh no /v/ Please, I'm not that good! You're just so nice u vu  
Oh, of course! I sent you a PM to talk about the details. Looking forward to betaing/working with you! C:_

_The Veteran Prince: Thank you very much! /v/ Glad to see you enjoying it so muc _

_Oh, I have some extra time today, so expert the Sion chapter up either later today, tomorrow, or the day after! C:  
Or much much later if I hit author's block, which seems to always happen. ; A ;_

_Oh, and something else, too! This is chapter Twenty-One and also twenty-one pages in word! Just thought I'd share that, cause I found it rather amusing u vu _


	23. Sion

_…For once, I really don't have anything to say but enjoy the chapter~ C:_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two- Sion

"Sion Starlight!"

Peacekeepers grip her arms tightly, crunching the material of her fighter's outfit under their steely hands. They march her swiftly up to the Serdin train, which glows sleek and black in the dimming evening light. Depressing grey clouds flit lazily around, her last sight of District Nine, Fighter, just as the sudden rush of wind that comes with the locking od train doors signal the end of her peaceful life as a Silver Knight, fighting for District Nine's peace and honour, and welcoming her to certain death.

Her mind spins, small pieces of thoughts scattered everywhere as she looks around the place. Her feet guide her—along with the heavy stomping of peacekeepers' boots—to a dark brown oak door, polished as it shines like bright day, with the District Nine crest and large golden letters named 'DISTRICT NINE-FIGHTER-TRIBUTE TWO'.

She stares, eyes dull, at the letters that seem to float around. IT takes her confused brain a few moments—that seem to dragon on—to comprehend what's happening.

Curious eyes peek out of the other district tribute rooms—small cracks revealing glittering eyes of all colours. They take her in, with her long white hair and shimmering fighter's suit, silently staring down her figure and thinking for ways to kill her, once the Games start. Some close their doors, obviously not worried about her, while others still stare at her, wondering, planning.

And there's the wind gathered from a swinging door, labelled 'DISTRICT SEVEN- TALENTS- TRIBUTE TWO', and her eyes meet ones she thought she would never see again. The very eyes she's seen, full of rage and sadness, the eyes that had stared into hers as he bid her farewell and headed off, to live life in a new district, District Seven—where certainly, fame and woman waited—as an ambassador for the Silver Knights to Serdin.

Jin. Her best friend, her partner, her crush. And now, her enemy.

That was the cruel reality of Serdin. That, by some strange twist of fate, so easily could everything—everyone—she believed in for her whole life shatter into little pieces.

Before she or Jin can say anything, peacekeepers shove her forward, and she finds herself being almost dragged towards her room. Soon, she's locked up in the District Nine second tribute room, dazed and dizzy.

"Takeoff in two hours. Visitors are allowed in five minutes."

A peacekeeper briefs her on the following hours, then closes the door with a firm snap.

She walks around for a bit, brow tightly furrowed. Her usually lovely, calm face wears an expression of anguish, as she wanders around the tight space, thinking deeply.

She isn't sure to what she's pondering—or maybe remembering is a better term to use—but little videos of happier times in her life, ones that had slipped her mind long ago, play on repeat in her head, again and again, and she allows a faint, shaky smile as she rewinds each tape and memory.

_What they say is true, _she thinks with slight amusement, _you really do tend to forget the happier moments, and only the sad remain. _

She bounces once on the mattress of her bed, and, despite her inability to believe her current predicament, notices with pleasure how comfy the mattress feels. After hard years of sleeping on hard ground and trekking through mud on night missions with the Silver Knights, she'd forgotten the secret comfort of a nice, warm mattress.

There wasn't much she could do, she realizes. The door to her room remained closed, as it will for the next two hours. She knew fully well no one would come to visit her. The Silver Knights were probably having a royal feast in Jin's room, drunk with pleasure at seeing their hero, teammate and even mentor. As much as she wanted to join, to bask in the cheer of her lifelong teammates one more time, she somehow didn't feel in the mood. She couldn't count on Victor or Tairin visiting, either—she and Jin pulled one too many jokes to be all that loved by the Silver Knight leader. And as for Tairin, he was probably in the company of the _other _Asin Tairin, who not long ago had been the nameless, homeless new recruit the elderly Tairin had taken a liking to and adopted, almost as a second son. The boy had taken Tairin's name to protect the elder from the insane Serdin queen, Enna's new rule.

She could not blame any of them. Jin was a loved Knight, and it was her choice to attend or not. Tairin was doing what any other person would do in his situation—go thank the one who had saved his life.

So she laid her head down on the pillow—that, with a sigh, her head sank into—and closed her eyes.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Sion Starlight!"

And from the crowd, eyes scan the people as Enna smirks, her cold red eyes—since when was the Queen's eyes _red?_—glittering, despite the dull grey skies. Seeming to look straight at her, she beckoned Sion to come forward.

And strangely, she did. Peacekeepers grab her arms but her feet go willingly, her lips tightly pressed together. She walked straight on, eyes wandering the isles of people, but still remaining silent.

As she passed Enna, the peacekeepers shot her a strange look as she stopped abruptly. She stared blankly back. Did they not feel it?

Sion was not good at magic, but even with her limited knowledge, she knew the strange feeling she sensed coming from the Queen was not normal. It was magical, for sure, but it was almost…dark? A deep, creepy feeling that seemed to rush down her spine, something that chilled her to the bone just nearing it.

Quickly, she turned her gaze away, dragging it almost painfully from Enna. With her eyes fixed firmly on the door to the Serdin train—which seemed much, much friendlier than the Queen—she began to walk again, with slightly confused peacekeepers following.

But maybe it was impulse, or even an order, that caused her to stop and look around.

She wishes she hadn't.

The sight of all the eyes, all the different shades, combined with the colours of hair that bobbed up and down, all trying to get a look at her, some even trying to mouth words of farewell and luck. A wave of emotion rises up in her, closing up her throat and turning her mouth dry. She swipes her tongue across her lips and minces them together, attempting to quell the sudden rush of tears that started to run up. No, weakness was not allowed here. But how could she stop when her heart was breaking with this final, last view of everyone she'd known, fought with, talked to, along the years of time?

She always thought she'd die of old age, surrounded by the loving, grieving faces of her friends and family and children, a final last image before passing into the darkness. But, because of the Games, instead of that fantasy she'd played out before when she was questioned on the subject of death, she was going to die alone. At the bottom of some freakish trap, created by Serdin only to make it more 'entertaining' to the nobles, alone and pained.

The thought shocks her, because she's still having a hard time realizing she's a tribute, but adding on the idea that she was going to die—she was bound to,she was not one foolish enough to believe that she could actually win the 'game'—and suddenly it seemed way too real. She was going to die. At only teen of age, only as some digital image projected on the big screen, made of pixels. Her corpse would either burn into ashes, become mutt-food, or rot in soil. No funeral, no mourning, no family to die beside, no one to hear her last words.

She was nothing.

_~Dangerous Times~_

And suddenly she wakes up, her hand clutched tightly around the soft silk of the overly-stuffed blankets.

"Nightmares?"

The voice shocks her, and she spins, tangled in a web of blankets and sheets, over to her other side, where she sees the spiky, blazing red hair, luminous even in the darkened haze of her room. Her eyes travel downwards in one swift motion, stopping quickly as bright yellow eyes meets hers.

"N-No. Just…stuff." She quickly replies, rather lamely.

"Hmm."

Jin nods, his arms crossed as he sits, wide-legged on the velvet chair next to her bed.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, starting to sit up. She gathers up the blanket, unconsciously hugging it to her chest.

"Just wanted to visit." He shrugged.

"So…you're a tribute too, right?" _Casually, _she thinks. _Be casual._

"Yep." He nods. "Guess we'll be battling."

"Yes," she agrees, and the room falls into silence.

"Well, I guess I'll be going. I just wanted to come here to say," Jin paused, taking the time to hoist himself up and head towards the door.

"Yes?" She says, rather testily.

"We aren't friends anymore in this. You might not want to, but I want to win."

He stares back to at and she's shocked into silence.

"I have a girl I want to build a future for, and I need to survive to do that."

_He has a girl, _She thinks, repeating. _Another female._

"So bye."

"B-Bye," Her voice sounds small as he slams the door and she's left alone.

She curls up, holding the sheets closer as she shakes.

Once again, she's nothing.

* * *

_And there it is! Sion's chapter u v u. To omnious: I hope I didn't mess up your character too bad! Sion is such a lovely character and I simply don't have the skills to master her /A/ I hope this was okay!_

_Sirenys seme: /v/  
Lolol—whut even are you on crack or—_

_OUO= You are 22__nd__ chapter?  
Either way, pick grammar freak aside, okay~ Thanks for catching that u v u_

_Puriyo: LOL. Okay okay OU O No need to pull out the Acho/Axerlot, you know I can't resist dem qts. u/v/u  
Good lord you all have it in for Snowskeeper, don't you? llD_

_Snowskeeper: /patpats you for having to deal with my crazy seme-papa Sirenys and seke-child Puriyo/  
Asdglkasghasg thank you so much /v/  
Nationstatues? O w O?  
Oh llD okay.  
LOlnooo! He's fine! I like him very much c:  
Oh you.  
LOLnopls. /v/ Don't flatter me!_

_Hardcoregsfan: Asdflksadghasdgk thank you so much! /v/ I'm so glad you enjoyed my paragraph about rats u vu  
LOL. Don't worry! C: I'll remind the readers if it comes to that u vu"  
Really? xD Well, actually, 56 of them are gonna be about the tributes/mentors…Oh dear llD The actual games is quite short, I'm afraid ; w;  
Oh no! Your review was fine! And I'm glad you like to review /v/ Your reviews always make me so happy and willing to update! U v U /cheers _

_Siresue: u vu Oh you._

_HI THERE: /v/ Oh please. Thanks, though C: /slapped_

_Pigs myself in: :u:_

_I WIN: /happy clappy dance/_

_Chaos: Hello~ u vu Oh no, it's fine! I'm very happy you took the time to review /v/ Thank you u vu~  
Ahhh~ Thank you so much! You're too kind u vu _

_Slaps ur: LOLokay. If you're determined to get Dangerous Times to 666 reviews, go for it! u v u _


	24. Lime

_Heyo~! C: Another update soon. We're getting to the bottom of the tribute list! With Lime's chapter, just two more districts—four more tributes—left! 8D_

_And as always, I have notes for this chapter, in which some are completely irreverent and you can feel free to skip. _

_-Lime's weapon. Whoa whoa. I thought it was a giant hammer or something, until I checked the wiki and it said it was a gavel.  
…Is that thing really a gavel? llD"_

_-Random fact of the day: The announcer's scent is a pun on my favourite scent that I always wear: Winter Candy Apple, from Bath and Body Works. llD"" _

_-I'm thinking of starting another story soon! C: it's also going to be a Grand Chase fanfiction, and it's made purely as a place for me to practice my angst writing and let out all my feelings about all the deaths that have been happening to my favourite characters. QAQ"  
So, I'll keep you guys posted! C:_

* * *

_Alrighty! Chapter time!_

Chapter Twenty-Three- Lime

"My dear child, you must be careful on your way to battle, lest the thoughts that plague your heart turn black with sin and your very existence plundered into the darkest pits of Elyos."

The wizened old man strokes her mind green bands, hand brushing across braided buns.

"Do you understand?"

His barely speaks, words flickering across cracked lips in a dry, soft tone. Intense eyes focus on the young girl before him.

"Yes, Pope St. Constantino."

A light, female voice replies back with equal urgency, and large blue eyes meet the Pope's with clear understanding.

"Very good, my dear. Very good. May Ernasis, Lisnar, and Armenian bless your life and keep you safe from misfortune."

The man reaches for a small, golden cross hung on a delicate chain and fastens it around her neck, lips lifting up to form a small smile.

"Welcome to the Holy Knights, my beloved Lime."

_~Dangerous Times~_

The district of all things pure and divine, District Ten, Holy. With strong connections to their neighbouring district, District Eleven, Gods/Religion, the district is surrounded with vast deserts, being founded right in the middle of a long forgotten civilization's ruins, with no apparently name but the Forgotten City. A giant barrier surrounds the place, and inside the citizens live in peace and harmony, each day taking the blessings of Pope St. Canstantino and worshipping the long praised goddesses—Ernasis, Lisnar, and Armenian. Though peacekeepers gathered like rats and kept constant watch at every corner, the isolated district forms its own culture within the large, protective barrier.

Here, they do not have officers of law, nor government. Instead, the citizens depend on each other and their willingness to stay pure, rather then commit sins. Those who choose to break away from the path of holiness are shunned and banned to places outside the barrier, other districts. Very often, there will be a group of people, evils gathered from District Ten and Eleven, to be shipped off to District Twelve, ERROR, where they will live the rest of their days, fighting for every bite of food, and longing for their old homes, regretting their choices in life.

Those who guide these people—the Caravan of Sin, it has come to be called—are special, chosen and qualified fighters, blessed by St. Canstantino and sworn by solemn oath to do their duty as told and never loiter. These guards are called the Holy Knights, both the pride and shame of District Then.

Other districts may criticize the place for believing good exists and innocence remains, even in the shattered wake of Serdin, but to the people of District Ten, they firmly believed to lead by example than punishment. There are no self-haters, no ugly truths, only the small hope of everything good and pure, that urges the district on and helps it develop a unique, loving community, and that all of its children remain pure and mature and kind, all aiming to best the best as possible at any kind of thing.

Such virtues are what the young Lime, a just rookie in the Holy Knights, has been brought up on. With strict rules—but all for her well being—Lime has grown into a beautiful, mature young lady, with her heart set on protecting the District and the strength to match it. Like all Holy Knights, Lime wielded the gavel—large scale version—that all the Knights were famous for. She was also trained in the healing arts, being able to heal the injured and bless her teammates to keep them safe from harm. Her responsible but playful attitude gained her a lot of admirers, and she was always positive and cheerful, no matter the circumstances. Thus, she was a blessed addition to the Knights and loved, many suitors all lining up to ask for her hand.

And yet, despite the almost perfect lifestyle, Lime still refused to let any male court her. She kept strong belief in the goddesses she praised—Ernasis, Lisnar, and Armenian. She believed the goddesses would show her the way, and true love if such things went in a romantic direction.

And that, is where problems occurred. People mocked her, chastised her for being vain and told her she couldn't leave everything up to the will of the skies, and live life so freely. Before she knew it, the carefree thinking would land her dirt poor and single.

Still, Lime did not listen, and went on as she normally did, head to the Holy Knights' base everyday rather than school—much to her mother's fearful disappointment—and playfully chatting with her co-workers. As time went on, Lime was content just where she was.

_~Dangerous Times~_

It was the day of the Reaping, and all through the house of Serenity, everything was quiet. In her small room off to the west, Lime carefully fastened her golden cross around her neck and let it rest on her Holy Knight uniform. Carefully tucking one of her buns beneath her cone shaped hair accessories, she took one last glance at the mirror.

Light, minty green hair like delicate floss, with large, luminous eyes that seemed to waver between light and sea blue. Fair skin, with graceful strands of escaped, shining hair dancing just above her collarbone. Her bangs were neatly pressed down on her forehead, held back by a dark blue satin ribbon. There was no doubt about it; Lime Serenity was a natural beauty. With an almost doll like face and petite figure, she was the envy of many other girls, and that she was well aware of.

Still, Lime did not flaunt her beauty all around the place. Wearing bulky clothes suited more for work, and having her hair tied up and covered, she relied on smarts and quick thinking to get what she wished, not appeal or beauty.

She checked herself once again, muttering under her breath. Normally, she would not be so fussy, but today was the Reaping, and she was slightly worried. What if she was picked? She held the cross between two fingers and rubbed it for good luck, then let out a sigh. Hopefully, the Reapings would be over before she knew it. Then, she'd held off to work—she was dressed for it, already—and soon, life would go back to what it always was, until the next year that the Chase Games started up again and Reapings haunted the wan districts.

She brushes her bands and heads downstairs, taking in the early morning smell and enjoying the peace and quiet.

"I'll be back after the Reapings," Not wanting to make a huge fuss, she heads off early, whispering to nothing in particular as she slips her feet into her heavy iron boots. Sliding open the back door, feeling the cold brush across her skin, she closes the flimsy screen door and stares at her house one last time before heading in the direction of the Reaping platform, a large, open area that was half in, half out of the border, layered with cement to make walking easier, and made especially for this event.

_~Dangerous Times~_

The Reapings. An event that took place every year, to pick tributes, two from each of the twelve districts. The tributes were then catered off to the capital, Serdin, where they would pampered and soaked in good food and fancy cloth, until the month was over. Then, a big shock would come to the spoiled tributes—they would be dumped in the middle of a pre-designed, computer-controlled playground, an 'arena', with elaborate traps and mutant carnivore animals. The tributes were then expected to fight to the death, killing both mutts—the nickname for creatures the subject of Serdin's experiments—and each other, until one remained ultimately standing; the one that would be crowned the Victor and treated to riches beyond imagination.

Lime scoffs, letting such a ugly impression grace her elegant features. Even all the riches couldn't help the Victors recover what they'd seen at the arena, the spray of blood from dead friends, killed by their own hands. She'd seen it herself; the way the Victors looked so dazed as they walked out from the arena, so broken as the cheerful, overly dressed parade went around the streets of Serdin, supposedly celebrating their 'triumph'. And how, over the years, the Victors were forced to be present at each new Chase Game, to train the children chosen from their own district, and then watch them die, slowly and painfully, from behind the closed doors—calling, crying out, but unable to do anything. Many Victors chose to hide behind masks—defensive mechanisms for the times they've been hurt and haunted by their own wills and memories. Some cracked jokes, others grinned in the face of death, while some lay completely broken, wishing nothing more than to die, pass on and leave the whole wretched world behind. Others were simply indifferent, too tired to care anymore, just repeating the same, daily routine each and every year.

Sitting down at the Reaping arena she had somehow wandered too, Lime stared ahead, unseeing. She wondered about these things often, whenever the Reapings rolled around. But she never got the Victors right; they just seemed so mysterious and strange. How could they abandon the teachers of their adolescence to become what they are now? How could they sleep each night, with the ghosts of past experiences in the arena haunting their dreams? Could the arena really drive someone to hate life so much, to abandon all innocence and religion and just hate, filling with sin and hatred at every single thing to plague this land and allow speech?

However, she never stopped thinking about them. Strange as it sounded, in some ways, her, someone hat was brought up with only virtues and beauty in her youth, was attached to the Victors as a moth to a flame willing to get burned—she wanted to know how they could see life so much differently than her, while they were all human, and, as humans, kept goodness in their hearts.

As she sat there, hands neatly folded in her lap, eyes straight ahead, people slowly filled up in the seats around her. Yet she was completely oblivious to the strange stares she got from peacekeepers and citizens alike, only focused on wondering thoughts that would surely be forbidden by her parents if they had knew.

What type of people would come from Serdin this year? How strange of styles would they dress? It all seemed so interesting to her, and for some rason she seemed to suddenly long for the outside world, the current world power and capital, Serdin.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Welcome, welcome to the annual Chase Games! Today, I will be your announcer for this lively event. Are you all exicted to pick the tributes to represent District Ten, Holy, to fight in the Chase Games for both you and your district's honour?"

The announcer smiles at all of them, barring inhumanly white teeth at the crowd. Pink bubblegum hair bobbled in the air as she lady pranced around, her eyes glaring down at all of them. Her overwhelming scent—smelling of winter and candy and apples all combined into one mix that Lime could not quite describe—lingered around the place, spread by the heat of the setting sun.

"Well, let's cut to the chase, shall we? Oh! That rhymes, doesn't it? Chase Games, cut to the chase, geddit? Oh, I'm so funny! I should be a comedian! Do I have the look? Oh, say I do have the look!" The announcer trailed off on a high, silly giggle and patted her powdered face, as almost everyone in the arena rolled their eyes, peacekeepers and Serdin guards included. Sure, announcers were not the brightest around, but this?

_How was she raised? _Lime wondered, staring with wide eyes up at the announcer, who was now laughing herself silly on stadge.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, it's just not everyday you find someone as humorous as me!" She wiped a tear from her cheek and batted long, _green _eyelashes. "Well, let's continue!"

She took a few minutes—long ones that seemed to stretch on forever in the heated haze the sun and sweat had formed—to unhook the microphone from its stand, then skipped over to the Reaping bowls.

"This is so exciting! It gets better each year!" The announce squealed, then, with a quick flash of gold, her hand came in and out of the bowl, long fingernails raking down the paper as she struggled to open it—Seriously, how hard was that?—and spoke.

"The first tribute for District Ten, Holy…"

A dramatic pause as a collective gasp rose from the waiting crowd.

"Lime Serenity!"

And suddenly every face seems to turn towards her, even the peacekeepers. They all know her, one way or another. Lime Serenity, the girl that's always first to volunteer for Holy Knight jobs or others to help the community. The girl that was courteous to all, even the peacekeepers. And the girl everyone held hope in for a bright future, blessed by the gods.

And yet, it seemed that was not to be, and Ernasis, Lisnar, and Armenian did not favour the young Lime at all.

Peacekeepers grabbed her arms and hauled her up, her feet weighed down by iron boots struggling to get a hold on the platform. As soon as she finds herself securely on the Reaping platform, she walks stiffly towards the announcer, who awaits her with a small glint in her baby blue eyes.

"So, Lime, right?"

Lime nodded.

"Why did your mom name you that? It's quite an unusual name, no?"

"I—" Lime paused. Thinking about it, she realized that she actually didn't know why she was named after a fruit.

"Lime?"

"I'm not sure," She finished lamely.

"Well, well. Whadya know? Maybe your mother will tell you when she visits you on the Serdin train," Seeing the momentary shock across Lime's face, the announcer mistook it for something else and hastily added, "Oh, don't worry. Reception there is fine, and the food is lovely. "

Lime nodded, mouth set in a grim line.

"Well, to wrap this up—since we have another tribute to pick, too—a word to your friends, family, and other tributes?"

"I…" She stopped again.

"Suffering from shock?" The announcer clicked her tongue and looked towards the peacekeepers. "Well, just rest up a bit, and prepare for the Serdin interviews once Eleven and Twelve are finished!" She laughed.

"Lime Serenity, everyone, tribute one from District Ten!"

And just like that, peacekeepers quickly escorted her out of view from the audience and towards the train. Even so, Lime was hardly paying attention. Though the question the announcer had asked was harmless and just an attempt at an interview, it had really gotten Lime thinking. Just why was she named Lime? Why had her mother never mentioned it? Thinking back on it, her family had never been one to talk about things that involved memories and explanations. The only things her parents were interested in were the things she had been brought up on—religion, innocence, and virture.

And suddenly, once again, for the second time that day, Lime wondered about the world that the people of Serdin and the other districts lived in.

And as she was being guided towards the Serdin train, Lime paid no attention to the other tribute—a male, that was all she knew—instead focusing on her own thoughts.

Then, something truly bizarre came into her head.

Though she was surely about to die in the Chase Games, she preferred to look on the brighter side of things. There was still a month before that happened, and maybe, just maybe, she could learn more about the other cultures, the worlds other tributes lived and learned in.

In some twisted way, she was excited for the coming month.

* * *

_And that's it! Lime's chapter, ladies and gentlemen! C: _

_We really are getting close to finishing off all the tributes! Oh, this is so exciting. We're going into part II soon! And part I earned over one hundred reviews, oh my gosh. You people are amazing! _

_Review Replies~  
Lucienteal: LOLnopls! You're pro!  
Pftt—No! Too many Achos! Cowardness affecting me! Abort, abort ; A ;  
I love how you added the 'uke' into 'Acho cling'._

_Sirenys on crack: .  
Can you  
stop_

_Snowskeeper: Noo! Please, please! Flattery is too good for this story /v/ This is just a normal, slightly below average story!  
Thank you, though c: Hope your preparations went well! And I think you just made up a character :Kaze'Enna. Still, who said that was Kaze'aze in Enna? C;  
LOL. Oh, really? That actually sounds pretty interesting…  
Pftt—Good luck with that. Battle!_

_hardcoreGSfan: LOL. Thanks, I suppose? xD:;  
Ohh~ I'll try my best, then!  
Actually, Dangerous Times was made to help me get better at action scenes, so I hope to put a lot of action into it! u v u  
LOL. Yes, of course!  
But of course! Each and every review/reviewer leaves a special place in my little authoring happy conscience. _

_Shinedown: Pftt- :ohyou:  
LOlwhat—um, thanks? xD;;  
Thank you! I'll try my best u vu _


	25. Raphel

_Hallo again~! It's been so long since I've updated! I apologize ;; I've been a bit busy these past few days xD;;; _

_Lucienteal: (I almost typed Puriyo ;;) Aksadhgalshdg I'm so sorry Raphel is so pro but I can't write pro ; AAAA ; _

_I'm experimenting with different openings for chapters (since I hit a bit of a block with this one) so the starts might be a bit weird for a few chapters!_

_AQsadglkasg I'm also so sorry the chapters have been so short latel Actually, you guys might be seeing a lot of these short little chapters for the remaining Reapings and 30 Days of Serdin…But no worries, I'm planning to make both the Chase Games and last five ending chapters longer! Actually, I was thinking of making the final chapter really long as a sort of finale. What do you guys think?_

_Alrighty, I'm going to start the chapter now~!_

* * *

Chapter Twenty Four- Raphel

Once upon a time, a man discovered he'd turned into the wrong kind of person.

Raphel Sanitatum Piscis is a charming man, but he is also a dead man.

His fate was sealed as soon as his name was drawn, without pity or regret peacekeepers were soon upon him and he found himself dragged over to the sleek black Serdin train, but the strangest thing is how he still smiles as they roughly shove him in and close the iron doors. Not one pay him nor the other tribute—a beautiful, mint haired girl named Lime, most unusual, he briefly thinks—any attention, as peacekeepers bustle around preparing to head as fast as possible, full course ahead to District Eleven, where the next Reaping shall take place.

Left alone, Lime shoots him a baleful glance before her expression turns to discomfort, and he knows all too well what causes her careful stare.

_So, my expression unnerves even Lime of the Holy Knights, _he thinks, stating it more of a fact than anything to be joyous or upset about.

"We should head to our rooms, correct?" He asks, and it takes Lime a while before she replies, as quickly and as carefully as possible.

"Right, of course," She says, simple and drawn, and he knows it's because they are not fools; they both know they will be killing each other upon the battlefield when the time is ripe. There is no reason to make friends when betrayal lingers above, he understands.

An uncomfortable silence settles in as they begin to head towards the tribute rooms, guided by the large and rather flashy sign, that reads TRIBUTE ROOMS clearly etched onto the iron.

Maneuvering their way through busy peacekeepers paying them no heed, Lime and Raphel crossed into the isle that held all the tributes.

Instantly, the difference was clear. In the other halls, voices filled with the air and footsteps were heard. However, this wing was completely silent, red carpet dusty and air musty from no human activity. If he had to guess, Raphel would say that none of the tributes ever came out of their rooms once locked in. Lamenting over their own twisted fate, no one had the willpower or nerve to wander outside and share their anguish with others. They would be slaughtering each other, after all.

Since the rooms were built in order, starting at One to Twelve, their rooms were at the back and they both found it an odd trek towards the polished oak doors. Though Raphel walked calmly on, he too felt slightly unsettled by the peeking of other tributes, eyes glittering in the thin cracks of open doors. He moved carefully, knowing they were watching, judging from the way he held his hands what weapon he used, the way he walked if he was a mage or a warrior, even the speed at what kind of battle he was used to. Lime was obvious in her iron clad Holy Knight armour and tied up hair, but he was an complete mystery to all of them, all the more to be wary about.

He continued striding along and the tributes found themselves biting the edges of their cheeks in frustration. Who was this carefree, easy-going, smiling man that wandered so easily into the halls as if he did not give a care in the world? Was he confident he could beat all of them, or had he given up on all hope and decided to enjoy life until the time came?

But Raphel thought none of these things. He decided that if he was going to die in this game, so be it. In the end, death and life were only small games of life played by the gods, people only chess pieces on a board played for amusement when bored. In a way, they were alike the dolls that they themselves played with when they were young—were they not only gifted emotions and abilities to rise beyond the common animals to entertain an ultimate being above? What was luck, but the churning of God's will, His decision if someone inherits a fortune when another is Reaped. Now that he was chosen, he could do nothing but accept his role as a plaything.

And so are the thoughts that plague his mind as he walks, serene and seemingly content through the halls of the tribute rooms. Eyes of all different colours—including one blue and one red, how weird, what game were the gods playing with that?—glared out of the cracks, some flinching with every step he and Lime took, other simply watching, and even some—one red eyed magenta haired male particularity—closing their doors.

Finally, they reached their rooms, both to the horror and relief of others and themselves, and Lime bid Raphel a quick farewell and good day before disappearing without a backwards glance. Well, why would she? With any chance, they'd be attempting to kill each other in a final stand.

He too headed inside to his quarters, where he found a fairly simple, crisp white room with a table, television, bed, and a separate room which he presumed was the bathroom. Fairly simple, and only for short-term use. He'd seen Serdin's standards and this certainly did not match up.

Still, it did its deed for him. He sat on the bed and closed his eyes, thinking, thinking about the whole matter and the Reaping.

_~Dangerous Times~_

It was not until his name was called did Raphel completely lose control of himself. Even if it was only for a split second, the smiling mouth opened to gap in horror and the usually accepting mind begged for a way out. He wished to be anywhere—even starving on the streets of Twelve—than standing on the Reaping platform, being asked silly questions by a—to bluntly put it, stupid, utterly and fully lacking brain cells—announcer. And then, without a final glance back, unknowing to the wails of farewell from the manly children he'd helped, guided through hard times and acting like a caring older sibling, he was dragged and locked into the Serdin train.

Of course, by then, Raphel had regained his usual mask of smiles and caring. Still, a little part of him refused to accept the fact he was going to die. That the gods rolled the dice and sealed his fate so easily, not bothering to even consider his time spent devoting his life to them, and preaching their cause to so many others.

Yet, that was the way things rolled to, and he could not argue.

The only thing to do now was to wait and see what happened—Serdin, the Games, the arena, the deaths, and finally, the Victor—and, as always, believe in the gods he hated so.

* * *

_Review Replies~_

_Sirenys on drugs: :you:  
GC workers was a lime…LOL._

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_Gaynah: /thanks_

_Snowskeeper: LOl. Thank you! u/v/u  
LOL. You might have been right c:  
Ohh~! I'll check it out sometime, then!  
I see you've sent the PM by now xD:; I apologize for not being able to reply to that for such a long time!  
As always, I'll reply after I type up and publish this chapter!_

_Lucienteal: I love your new penname/strokes  
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_SnowSummer: Thank you so much~ Yes, the Hunger—or Chase, in this story they're called—will be quite bloody /v/  
Yes~ Sion is omnious's OC, from his story, Twilight of the Silver Land._

_I WIN: not quite yet, sorry! _

_Siresad: /claps _


	26. Rin

_150 reviews?! Asadgkasgd thank you all so much! :,D When I started this story, I hardly expected to get more than twenty reviews, but then I got fifty, sixty, seventy, and slowly up to one hundred! And now, we're at one-fifty? This is amazing. Thank you all so much! Your reviews really help me to write and update as quickly as I can!_

_Notes:_

_-I'm really not proud of this chapter I8 It seems to me it could be a separate story on its own and doesn't really fit into my plot. _

_-This is a bit of a nonsense chapter. I'm sorry, but I couldn't think of anything!  
However, whatever happens here will not be expanded upon. Dangerous Times will carry on as a simple Grand Chase and Hunger Games crossover, that is all. _

_-I absolutely suck at describing skin tone. ; A ; Sorry if I sounded offensive or anything! If anyone has any tips on writing about skin tones and appearance features, I'd be very thankful!_

_-On a completely unrelated, ignorable note, my birthday is next week. C: March 8__th__!_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five: Rin

"Miss Rin, your tea is ready."

The young woman carefully fastens up her loose bundle of winter white hair, twisting it to the side as she slides a hairband and two golden hair accessories into. Bright blue eyes blink twice as glossy black eyelashes flutter across coffee-coloured cheeks. She brushes a delicate hand over her pink eyeshadow, smoothing out the colour so that it faded to a natural but elegant hue. Large aqua-blue earrings shift slightly as she turns her head to look at the maid standing by the door.

"Thank you," With a polite incline of her head, she dismissed all tension through the room. "Please set it down, over there."

"Yes, miss Rin."

The maid sets the tray down and walks over to her side, standing over her as valiant as ever.

"Do you need anything else, my lady?"

The girl so-called Rin shook her head, smoothing out the braid with the yin-yang symbol that she wore as a belt, tightly fitted around her small waist.

"Just a question," She says, and out of the corner of her eye, sees the maid's eyes widen slightly with interest. It was not common that Rin dared to ask a question.

"The tribute for District Six," Rin began, but paused, drawing out her words slowly, as if battling herself to speak or not to speak. "She is royalty as well, is she not?"

"Ley von Crimson River," The maid informed. "She is the princess and heir of the Crimson River tribe."

"So, say, if I was to be Reaped—"

"Miss Rin, you must not think of that. The Gods smile upon you and your fate, and the blessing of Agnesia protects you from such miseries, as you are informed of."

"Yes, I understand. But," Rin, seeing the maid frown, spoke faster, to avoid being interrupted again. "If it was to be, would it not be the two blood of royals spilled upon the grounds? How is Agnesia to protect me, against the flesh and blood of other royalty?"

The maid's eyebrows drew together, lips in a tight line. She kneeled in front of Rin and gripped the air before Rin's shoulders—for no one of an lower station was permitted to touch the young mistress—and spoke low, yet loud and clear.

"Miss Rin, you must listen to me. No matter what rank of blood you will battle against, the blessing of Agnesia will always triumph. For you are not a mere lowly princess, but the reincarnation of a goddess: our savior, goddess of life and purity, Agnesia. No matter what, you shall always get the better of anything. Nothing beats a god."

Rin stared at the maid for a brief second, the blinked away. "Understood. I shall lead my ponderings and doubts elsewhere."

And with that, the conversation ended, with the maid quietly slipping out of the room, as Rin leaned back in the chair and thought.

If she was to be smiled upon by the heavens, then who was to be frowned upon in sacrifice?

_~Dangerous Times~_

It really wasn't anything. A one sided love, she thinks. Doomed before it even began. How could the smiling goddess stumble upon someone so unworldly, so forbidding, so _dark? _

She knew it was gone before it started.

So, perhaps, that is why she didn't try. She never tried, simply letting things flow the way they were.

Perhaps, she thinks, if she had tried harder, she might've prolonged her life inside he arena. But how was she to know that she was supposed to use blonds—relationships, family, friends, and lovers—all played around in the palm of one's hand to try to survive the reality of the Chase Games? How was she to know she was to be Reaped at all?

They had all told her she would be fine. The clouds had opened, allowing the sun, the gods smiling down on her to walk with her as she prepared for the Reaping of District Eleven, Gods/Religion.

And when she got there, in the blink of an eye, her name was drawn.

Thinking back on it, she realizes that the announcer's nails had been painted red. Red, the colour of victory, honour and royalty. And yet, also the colour of blood, death, and war. A double sided coin, just like her. The smallest omen that had led to her demise.

For she had died, died in the arena, died as a lonely, scared girl, nothing special. For inside the arena, all ranks disappeared. Humanity no longer existed. Battle was all. And there was only one rule, forced upon them. To kill, or to be killed.

_No matter, _something deep inside her rumbled, a voice as deep and as peaceful as the earth. _I shall be reborn, and the Malevolent Horde kept inside a cursed child once more._

The boy reaches her quickly, jumping from the green leaves bordered by the dark shadows, from the tree he had hidden into the open, dropping silently to land on the grass behind her as silver steel flashes and blood sprays onto the blade as he cuts her open, with one quick, trembling slash. She falls to the ground, clutching the bleeding mass of her neck as her eyes reflect the silver of his daggers in the moonlight and she stares up at him—but not quite at him, her neck refuses to obey her—and there's the sudden impact from not being able to breathe, from her starving lungs cut from oxygen, and regret, regret from the world she neglected to explore, the friends she had second thoughts to make, as her sight wavers and she reaches a hand forward desperately—but to no avail. The boy was trembling, she realizes as her mind begins to haze over—trembling and desperately looking towards the tree where he had come from. An ambush? More tributes? She didn't get to ponder it any further before the cold metal stabs her again in the back of the neck, a quick, finishing blow. Her mind flashes once—thoughts of her, her life as a being, and then, she sees a mystical being enrobed in a dress of leaves and thorns, before the world goes black and her sense fade, once and for all.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Rin of Agnesia!"

Rin gripped the railing, knuckles white and eyes unbelieving, as her name was called by the announcer with the red nails—a sign of honour, of royalty, Rin notices. Perhaps it would lead her to victory.

Briefly, in the back of her mind, something registers that this is an event that has happened before, but she brushes it off. How could something like that take place before?

And as Rin boarded the Serdin train, the loop of Agnesia began again, to have the cursed child fall into the arena, attacked by that damned Natrian of Twelve, then to live again, all to keep the power of the Malevorent Horde in check. Slowly, the slowly, the process was messing the flow of time and destroying the universe, but what did it matter?

The humans, them and their foolish Games, had already ruined it enough.

* * *

_And that's that! Again, I apologize for the out of sort chapter. I8_

_Review Replies~_

_Siresquiddle: :you: ok._

_Lucienteal: c:  
Asdslkfhasd no your beau stahp  
YOUUU. III8  
O n O…  
Nooooo-/drowns in pool of shotas  
LOl. Thanks? But no stahp Raphel was pro to begin with_

_hardcoreGSfan: It's oka Atleast you're here now! I was thinking you died off or something xD;; it happens.  
Haha, thank you! I will to get it up asap ^^  
LOL. Thanks! I'm glad that was humorous /v/ It was my intention. _

_Snowskeeper: Ahhh~ Thank you very much! I typed the chapter when I had just returned from a party and was so tired and not thinking correctly, so thank you so much for catching my mistakes! By all means, please do point them out! It's only improving the quality of Dangerous Time  
They've been fixed now. Thanks again!  
Ah, okay. Thanks! /v/ (I am doing a lot of thanking, aren't I? xD;;)  
Ohh~ I've watched a few playthroughs of Dishonoured before. It seems like an interesting game! I'd definitely play it if I could get my hands on a controller and a copy of the game.  
Oh? What Youtube video? C:  
And no, it's fine. I honestly don't care how fast you review, only that you review.  
…Okay, nope xD;; That came out sounding selfish. What I'm attempting to say is that, mainly, I'm thankful you took the time to review and instance doesn't really matter. /v/ _


	27. Xion

_Xion's chapter! Can you believe it? After this, we only have two more chapters to go, until we enter Part II, and then, after that, the Chase Games! _

_I promise, I'll try to get those last two and the Thirty Days of Serdin up as fast as possible. I'll review the parts and their importance to the story in the last chapter for Part I, which will be Zeta. _

_Shinedown: Aasdgkalsgd I'm so sorry ; A ; I couldn't think of anything good to write for Xion and idek he's just such a good character and you're so nice and everything and I apologize for this extremely crappy edited chapter ; A ;  
You probably saw it all on my Christmas joindotme/Facebook llD""  
For anyone else who is reading this and currently is confused: I occasionally host joindotme's when I'm writing stories/gifts for people, and I wrote this little bit as a gift to shinedown for Christmas xD;; Or was it your birthday? I think it was Christmas. Either way...Yep. I8 _

* * *

Dangerous Times Chapter Twenty-Six - Xion

_The Reaper, Collector of Men's Souls_

Xion De'elmar was normal. That was what he wanted to be considered as, what he told everyone he met. It might be strange to introduce himself as a completely ordinary guy, but he was just so desperately chasing after that one description it didn't really matter what others thought anymore.

But, try as he might, he never achieved that status of being 'normal'. He was always the strange one, the one that people saw and whispered to each other about. He'd seen and heard it too many times to care, but sometimes it got to him. Come straight up, out of the blue, and wrapped all around him, coiling, pressuring, breathing false rumors down his neck.

A reaper living in the district of Gods and religion was never a good idea. He was almost like the storybook villain, a being parents told their children about to keep the kids from getting too wild. _'If you don't behave, the Reaper will come and get your soul!', _ they all exclaimed, as children with wide eyes shrieked and dove for cover.

He honestly didn't know how this whole Reaping business started. He was just a normal guy, really. Most days, he hung around the butcher shop, trading small animals he brought down with his bow for larger, already cut and cleaned pieces. Perhaps some bored teenager saw him and decided to make a silly little rumor. Well, he'd never know. All he knew was that the lies quickly spun out of control, from harmless stories to old legends. Somehow, some genius decided to fuse together his story with Rin, the recantation of the goddess Agnesia. Now, apparently, they were two spirited beings that came in a package deal. One to bring life, another to take. No wonder people seemed to worship Rin more than him.

Honestly, Xion didn't like the whole death-reaper thing. When he wasn't busy trying to feed himself for the day, he often found himself wondering just how he'd become the patron god of suicides.

And why he'd chosen to do something so storybook, so impossible, so _stupid._

There were probably millions of girls who worshipped the Reaper. There were probably even some that would fall for him despite knowing the rumors. District Eleven was a wide place with plenty of citizens.

And yet, he decided to fall for the goddess of hope and life.

It was something even god himself would laugh bitterly at. Perhaps, that was his intention. It went against all the laws of nature, against everything that anyone had ever thought of.

But, away it happened.

He isn't sure exactly _how _it happened. All he knows is that he saw her and instantly fell. Hard.

With her long, delicate strands of hair like moonlit silk, and bright eyes filled with kindness, Rin was perfect, even in the hazed grey he saw the world and her. Being the second life a goddess, she was kind, talented, and modest. Everyone in all of District Eleven loved her, pampered her and the like. Yet what drew him to her was the fact that she always seemed so cheered, so bright, even in the face of the current famine District Eleven was facing. She was always there to encourage people, to tell them to keep going until they find that rainbow at the end of the rain.

It was that he was always so downtrodden and straight-to-earth, while she, an optimistic dreamer that helped people to go on had met on a rainy day years ago. He was positive that she'd forgotten it since it had been but a mere pass on a crowded street, but he never would. It was her style that had drawn him to her, the authentic yet perfect mismatch of clothes that seemed to go perfectly well with her slender figure and round eyes. The rounded loop her flowing hair had been formed into to entwine elegantly around the right side of her head. And most of all, it had been that smile, that shimmering, wide smile with big eyes that made him notice her. She smiled at everyone, from the poorest beggar to the most selfish noble. An expression of kindness and modesty, but also hidden mischievous actions and a joyous spark of youth. Perhaps it was that small motion that made him start liking her more and more. Over the times, he'd spotted her sometimes in crowds, watching from a distance. He assumed that nothing good would come from them even just knowing each other.

Yet he couldn't shake that small little hope, that little wish that an event would happen where he'd have to talk with her. It was that hope that kept him staking her out at gatherings and just watching, watching, wondering how it'd be to speak, to exchange words and thoughts with her.

_~Dangerous Times~_

And he'd gotten that wish. Just, not in the way he would've wanted.

As he watched her climb the platform to stand next to him, shivering slightly, he wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to tell her it was alright, that everything would be okay, but that was a lie, it was all a lie, and he wasn't found of making her first impression of him a bad one.

Well, that all didn't matter. With luck, they'd end up pitied against each other and he'd have to kill her. The Chase Games, ruining relationships and families since lord-knows-when.

The guard escorts them back to the Serdin train, sleek and shiny, waiting for them. They walk in silence down the halls leading to their rooms, as tributes from other Districts peek out of the door to stare at them. He can see their eyes flickering back and forth, wondering if one of them might win this year. The male from the demon district, Dio, scoffs and turns back to his room, apparently not alarmed by them. Figures. Demons always thought themselves so high and mighty it made him sick.

However, he saw the female, Ley, stare at him rather wanly. Well, that was strange. If he remembered correctly, she was even vainer than the male. Xion took a mental note—though knowing him, he'd forget it later then suddenly remember it in the middle of a battle at random—about her behavior to consider.

He didn't fancy the idea of dying. Even more, he didn't fancy the idea of _Rin _dying. He was pretty sure killing goddesses was illegal.

Which is why, she just needed to win. She needed to.

And though he had a small, sneaking suspicion that he'd thought the very same thoughts, standing on the very same carpet, at the very same minute, glaring at the very same Dio Burning Canyon, he couldn't help but wonder why there was this almost tired, almost pitying feeling, an unexplainable wish to take Rin in his arms and run away, run away from the cruelness of Serdin and the brutal realism of the Chase Games. Most of all, though, he wanted to run away from District Eleven. Gods and religion—it made him want to laugh.

God himself knew that the gods were always testing out heroes as playthings and smirking behind their thrones of gold.

And yet, he wondered, what was he? He wasn't a hero. He wasn't anything close to a hero. He was just himself, destined to die a sad little death in the Chase Games, no friends, no love, no life. That was all.

He wasn't the hero. That was fate.

* * *

_Derp. Bad editing and short chapter. I am so sorry ; A ; _

_Jackie is up next~! C:_

_Review Replies~_

_Sirenys: u  
and yes I see the message_

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_Snowskeeper: Terraria? Never heard of it. What's it about?|  
It did u v u  
LOL. I'm glad it was c: As I stated in the chapter , I thought it'd be lame beyond reason llD"  
Okay xD:; Good.  
LOL. /Watches you fanboy_

_Shinedown: LOLWHUT. 1'M SORRY 1 DON'T H4V3 L33T SK1LLS FOR OUR CH1LDR3N TO 1NH3R1T.  
LOLOLWHUT. Um…Thanks? U vU"" _


	28. Jackie

_Jackie's chapter, and finally, District Twelve! After this, we only have one more chapter to go oA o" Wow, it feels strange that we're finally progressing more and more into the story. xD_

_Snowskeeper: Asaklgagd I'm so sorry if this chapter sucks ;u ;"" I used the example you gave me as a template and I hope you don't mind ;u;_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Seven- Jackie

He was terrified of choices.

Shy. Rude. Sociopathic. They were all words that people aimed at his person. Others that knew him and his actions well universally would describe him was psychotic, as well, though more often than not they used much more colourful words for that.

But, simply and honestly, if he trusted someone enough and one had cared enough to question, he would've told them about his fear of choices.

He would admit, the rest of the descriptions could be counted on to be true, as well. He wasn't foolish; he knew himself well enough and how to conduct his person using his pros and cons to his advantage. He wasn't sure about sociopathic; manipulating others wasn't something he'd do, unless driven to dire purposes.

He supposed his work had more to do with choices—always, the choices—than empathy. Deep down, perhaps, he was briefly aware of the pain he inflicted on his victims, that some part of him cared for the expression of agony and hatred he was so used to seeing, as the light faded from shocked eyes and a steady pulse slowed until gone. Still, he couldn't help but doubt it.

He was shy as well, he thinks; sarcasm and audacity rose as subconscious defensive mechanisms, which made a bad impression on most people. They stayed away from him—and that was fine with him, he believes—partly because this was District Twelve, where no one could be too sure of anything and had to watch themselves lest they lose their necks, and partly because he presented himself to be so unapproachable.

One thing he'd admit though was that he was…Well, to simply and bluntly put it down without a single shred of doubt or eminent, was that he was definitely psychotic. He enjoyed the slick, rough feeling of a steel slicing quickly through someone's throat, the skin parting underneath the pressure of the blade. The pitter-patter of blood that dripped down in small ripples, or maybe as a large, quick spray that coated him from head to toe in crimson dye. Or, as he held the slippery, warm form of an intestine in his hand, the feeling of rich blood between his fingers the strange, delicious metallic smell that rose from the fresh, still-warm body, the life slowly drawing out as flies fluttered around his head, attracted just like he to the grotesque sight before his knees.

Occasionally, the guilt of killing, of taking a life and leaving their loved ones weeping, got to him, but he'd attributed that to angst, and ignored it for now. After all, it wasn't like he was killing for no reason. He'd convinced himself there was a reason for each and every life he had taken, each and every scream drawn from the helpless, tied-up bodies of his victims as they ranged from gender, from age, from dirty curses to desperate begging.

The issue of money, for one. Money was hard to come by in the streets of Twelve, and without money, food and water were not available, either. He wasn't any good at picking pockets, so he had to murder for any kind of pay. He'd told himself enough times that it was fine, that the district and Serdin really didn't care who died, and murder cases went around, unsolved, uninvestigated. The people he targeted were the lowest of the low: criminals, other murderers, and prostitutes. People like that wouldn't be missed, correct?

In some ways, he found it ironic that he, one of the lowest of the low, had made a living killing others who were also on the same rank of him, but many things in life were ironic, and that was the style the people of District Twelve lived.

District Twelve. Kill or be killed. Gain or die. In many ways, supposedly it was alike the Chase Games, but with less cruelty and lower stakes. People had to betray others, to stomp on their friends' backs on their rise to greatness. Maybe that's why they had Victors from District Twelve, sometimes. The children were trained from a young age to hide behind a smile and backstab someone the next day. Feelings were unneeded, a sign of weakness. If you showed mercy, it'd come back to haunt you someday. Nothing was important, nothing but oneself.

These observations were irrelevant now, he supposed. It all didn't matter—his life, who he killed, his thoughts and insights on the District, and his very person. It all didn't matter, not at all, not anymore. He was now standing on the heavy, metal platform, eyes fixed on the back of the room, attempting—and struggling—to make a choice, while drowning out the voice of the zealous announcer from Serdin, who gripped his arm tightly no matter how hard he tried to shake her off, and screamed into the microphone she held between long fingernails. She droned on and on about how utterly terrible it must have been to grow up on the streets of district like this. He didn't really hear—much less comprehend—what she was saying, because his ears were only transmitting a long, loud ringing sound that covered up everything else—the occasional laugh from the crowd, from someone who had known or, at the very least, suspected what he had been doing, or the three or four jeers that got a few people beaten, or the cry of a peacekeeper's gun into a body—wait no, the air, not a person, they wouldn't dare do that on live television—in an attempt to shut up the vile crowd.

He had three choices, and that was two too many. He could run, just bolt through the shoving crowd and distracted peacekeepers. He'd probably die, but he'd do that anyways as a tribute for District Twelve, to fight in the Chase Games. He could also just go along with it, accept that no one was going to sponsor him—the messed up kid from District Twelve, who'd bother?—accept that he would probably die in the arena, with no knowledge of any fruits that were okay to eat or which berries made a good poison, or how to catch other tributes or mutts using snares and other ways of trickery. His only two choices—God, _choices_—were to either face the other tributes head-on, or hide until everyone else was dead. He doubted these opinions—opinions, just another fancy word for choices—would work, and they'd end up with him dead.

Or he could try to kill someone, and get put down on the spot.

Stupid day to leave his only weapon—a dagger—at his house in the alleys. He'd assumed they'd search him, like they searched everyone on Reaping days, and though they did, perhaps he could've stabbed one of the guards on the way in or something? Perhaps being caught with a dagger on the way in, a show of rebellion, and being Reaped later would have someone daring enough to sponsor the scrappy kid from District Twelve, who had attempted to take on a group of peacekeepers with a small dagger?

He could try to poke out their eyes, slowly and carefully, feel the shape of the eyeball in his bare hands, or crack open their skulls and pluck out the brain like the red heart of an olive, but he could only imagine scenes like that. These peacekeepers were not like the half-starved, ruthless victims he normally killed—they were trained to be the best, to handle any situation in any district, with technology from Serdin's greatest. Attempting to rebel would only land him drugged and doomed.

Gods, he hated choices.

"Jackie?" The announcer inquired, waving an manicured hand in front of his face, speaking with a loud, singsong voice.

He ignored her, still staring directly at the back wall. Perhaps if he focused hard enough and threw a few mutters in, they'd think him damaged and shoot him—a mercy with the threat of the Chase Games looming overhead—then pick someone more interesting. He'd heard they'd shot a mother in Two the other day. If they were willing to kill older citizens, they wouldn't hesitate to shoot a dumb tribute.

No such luck.

"Ah, he's just nervous. I'm positive he's never gotten this much attention in his life before!"

Now she was getting more glares than he was. Of course not. Attention was a luxury in District Twelve. Everyone was too busy attempting to feed themselves than help each other with their woes. Husbands had no attention for their wives, who begged desperately for money only to be returned with a slap—District Twelve was considered a mix of the districts, and that had certainly come from Eight—and harsh words. In return, mothers had no attention for their weeping babies, opting to satisfy their gnawing hunger than that of their children. Children were not given the attention to learn any skills or education to rise above the District Twelve lifestyle, and teenagers were normally kicked out to make a life for themselves in the rotting district. No one paid the beggars on the streets attention—it was such a common sight—and not even the sight of blood spraying out from the dark corner of an alleyway bothered the citizens anymore. Cries of young maidens for help as they were ambushed went unanswered, drifting into the air as background noise as people stared around with sunken eyes at the state of their lives.

Attention was nothing. No one had time to pay attention to anyone but themselves. He would've laughed if not for the dark feeing of the choices being there.

"Well, I'm sure he'll make you proud in the arena. Jackie Natrain for District Twelve, ladies and gentlemen!"

Her hand closed down on his shoulder as she spoke, probably to make a friendly gesture for the camera. Revolution so strong it twisted his gut and made him step backwards shot through his person, and he snarled—an animal sound—walking back towards the Serdin train. He spun around as peacekeepers began to flock around him, with the jeers of the crowd following him. Risking one last glance back, he saw that many of the citizens were attempting to hold back from laughing. At who or what, he didn't know. But he was almost sure it was him. It was always him.

_~Dangerous Times~_

They herded him into the District Twelve, Tribute One chamber without any trouble. Stares from the other tributes followed him down a hallway that seemed all too long, as the announcer bounced beside him, chatting in her high-pitched, girly voice. She asked him questions, but got the hint that she was unwanted when he did not reply. Well, maybe, he couldn't reply. He registered suddenly that he was in shock, and stopped even trying to make sense of the sudden, new events.

They left him alone in his room, his cell. As he lowered himself down on the bed, he moved his hand to his left pocket almost subconsciously, where his dagger would normally rest. Remembering that it wasn't there, he settled in, ignoring his dirty clothes and disheveled hair .Curling up, he tried to fall asleep.

It was then that the irony of his predicament hit him. He was a cold-blooded murderer, but instead of being tired and found guilty, then sentenced to death, he'd been selected purely by chance to participate in a contest where you won by killing people. Slowly, quickly, he began to laugh and sob in turns.

* * *

_Aaskdlghasgs bad chapter yep. ; A ; I actually typed this right after my Elsword fic and it's getting pretty late here in Canada, so I apologize for any rushed spelling mistakes or the sort. llD_

_One more chapter to go~ Are you guys excited? I sure a _

_Review Replies~_

_Snowskeeper: Yes, it would xD:;;  
LOLWHUT—it was that funny?  
LOL. Well, it is the God/Religion district, after all.  
Ahh. Sounds interesting, I suppose~  
LOL. Errr, your neck is-/watches him fanboy_

_Sirenys: LOL. Well okay._

_Lucienteal: Alakshdgklasgdnoooo.  
Oh god. Xiou. Yes. Old times, old times._

_Shinedown: Adklhklsg no what skills I don't have skill _

_hardcoreGSfan: LOL. Sorry? I'm just trying to get the whole story up and over~ xD;;  
Oh my gosh, it is! I didn't even notice that! Well, seven is a magical number, after all~ Too bad it'll change after this update. xD;;  
LOL. A bunch of people are pointing out that line. Is it that funny?  
LOL. Um ,don't hurt yourself! As I said, I'm trying my best to get all the chapters up as fast as possible for you lovely readers~ And, if I don't go snowboarding over spring break (stupid avalanche warnings /: ) I'm sure I'll be able to update lots!  
LOL. Well, I wouldn't want you to die off u v u._

_Snowskeeper (again): Asadlgkag I have to take this moment to thank you, so much /v/ That came out of the blue and I was not expecting such a lovely review to pop in my inbox! I just kinda sat there and grinned like an idiot xD;; Either way, thank you so much! That review was just lovely and made my day, and inspired me to get to work on this chapter right away. xD;; Positive reviews really help an author! _


	29. Zeta

_Heyo~! Unexpected update. Typing this the day before my birthday party, what am I even doing? llD" /has plans, homework, band practice, and a bunch of other things/ _

_I am so sorry this is so late. I wanted to update this sooner, like on Wednesday or something, b-but um…Skyrim got in the way…llDD"""" /watches playthroughs all day long yep I'm a lonely poor little person with no money to buy the game ; A ; Cry is awesome, though._

_Either way, I just wanted to update this little chapter to get up and started into Part Two! _

**_An important message (4 relz dis time lol) _**

_Information concerning Part Two and the upcoming 30 chapters will be at the bottom of the chapter, after review replies. Please read it for more information~!  
__**Also, another message from yours truly: **__I understand that most of you came to read for blood and battle and the Hunger Games, and part two, which will be basically mentors and friendships and rainbows and happiness, is not what you wanted. If you want to stop reading now and actually go read the real Hunger Games series (which, by the way, is a masterpiece /strokes my copies/), go on ahead! C: I'm not like, forcing you to sign a contract to read Dangerous Times for the rest of your life and sell your soul to Satan or something. If you think that Dangerous Times is not what you wanted, feel free to just stop reading, or, even better, skip part two and keep reading!/slappedsohard_

_No, really. In all seriousness, you can skip part two if you don't feel up to it. No hard feelings C: The beginning chapter of Part Three, the Chase Games , will be called Delicate. Look out for it! Or just wait thirty chapters, and the Chase Games should be starting. There might be some important stuff in Part Two, such as relationship development and some of the second secret plot, but you really don't need any of it if you just came for the blood and death. So, by all means, go on and skip! Of course, I don't want you to skip or anything. If you want to stay and read Part Two, go on, go on my precious ones./brick'd/ _

_So yep. Information on bottom of chapter to avoid clogging up the beginning. O u O_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Zeta

"Zeta el Inritum!"

As the male with the shining red hair walked up, he was met with hardened glares. El Inritum. A name that most knew well in District Twelve. Zeta was a young, smart lad that was well educated in both the way of the sword and magic. He lived in a grand house—by District Twelve's standards, of course, in no way matching Serdin's—getting more than two meals a day, and excelling in his subjects. Those who had dared to ambush the red-head were struck with fear upon result, and rumors began to circulate of an forbidden deal, a wish upon the devil for wealth and power, in exchange for his soul. After all, the boy had flaming red hair, and even in ancient times, that was considered a sign of witchcraft and wizardry.

Though none of these rumors could be confirmed true, the people thought them real enough and kept away from the male. Said boy thought this was fine; thugs and robbers dared not go near him and his property.

However, Zeta el Inritum had a problem. A problem that was common, but that didn't make it any less foolish.

He was in love.

Though it could be hardly called love. More of a celebrity crush, someone he saw on TV and fell in love—or lust?—with at first sight.

Zeta el Inritum, the flame haired Void Knight from Twelve, was in love with Selena Soldes, the blonde angel from Four.

It was so stupid. Just so stupid. He had only seen her appear once, on television, so many years ago, having just come from the arena as a Victor. With luck, she was probably taken as someone else's now. Someone like her, that was so successful, so beautiful, and so talented, there was not a doubt she already had a sweetheart.

Yet, some part of him couldn't help but hope. After all, he lived in District Twelve. Here, where most the females were married by the ripe age of fifteen, and the remaining lived a dirty, cruel life on the streets, Selena's simple radiance let off a wanting, a desire for her knowledge, wisdom of the world gained from her time in battle, and yet her simple but beautiful aura, filled with virtue and innocence, but underneath, a dark, brooding mist, creating nightmares and doubts. He wanted to be the one that was there to hold her at night, when the nightmares became too much, to wipe away her tears, to calm her fears and smooth her hair. He wanted to breath her fragrance, to feel her warm glance, and let the sweet, melodic chimes of her voice reach his ears.

Yes, Zeta was hopelessly and desperately in love with a female that didn't know he existed.

It was crazy. He was crazy. Then again, he was already crazy enough, wielding the sword known as Os Galdii. Hailing from District Twelve, the spiked red haired Beast Insider.

It seemed that secrets clouded the District, and he was no exception. The reason for all his wins during battles—for Zeta had never lost once—was because of the hidden monster—a beast—inside him, going by the name of Razer. Zeta and Razer. They were a package deal. While Zeta basked in Razer's power, Razer soaked up Zeta's emotions until there remained the ghost of a boy, who was once normal, once cheerful and happy.

Zeta didn't care about anything now. He had no family, no friends. Life was repetitive, the same routine over and over. The only thing that he cared slightly for was Selena, and he didn't know why. Perhaps, it was because he didn't know her. Everyone had a flaw he disliked, he knew. But he didn't know the blonde female at all, much less Selena's flaw. To him, she was ageless, perfect. He had no idea who she really was. He attached all sorts of thoughts, pictures, fantasies, and she was simply, utterly perfect.

Perhaps that was what lead to the events that unfolded so slowly during time, from the moment he saw her on that television, broadcasted live from Serdin, that their silly little 'romance' was doomed to fail.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Zeta, can I ask you something?"

Evergreen eyes looked into his own dark ones, as her hand dropped from his, and he clutched the empty air where Selena's warm, small hand had once been.

The angel's eyes were so luminous in the fading noon light, her blonde hair flowing from her back, large, pure-white wings completely still. Her voice was quiet, serious, and his eyebrow furrowed.

"Of course."

Dropping down to sit by her, Selena began to speak as Zeta settled down.

"The Chase Games are starting soon," she observed quietly.

"They are," he acknowledged.

"Zeta," she turned on him, eyes serious. "You said you've loved me since you saw me on television years before," she hesitated.

He waited for her to go on, unmoving, expressionless as usual.

"How could you love me?" she blurted out. "You don't know me!"

The exclamation took him by surprise, and he gapped, staring at her.

"You made me a personality. You made us a relationship. But that was a fantasy. This is reality. So what I'm asking you is: Do you love me? Real or not real?"

Her eyes gazed into his, searching the endless black for an answer.

And for once, he was at a loss for words. Not because he didn't care, but he didn't know.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"5,"

He sees her rush in, platinum blonde hair trailing behind. She paused to catch a breath, waiting a second.

"4,"

He smiles, one last time, at being able to see her before the Game started.

"3,"

The elevator shaft and his tribute tube began to move.

"2,"

Their eyes met. And he knew what he had to say. As she opened her mouth, he whispered a single word.

"1!"

_Real._

* * *

_And that's that! I literally wrote the draft and typed it up in an hour llD" Oh, time. You so silly. _

_Review Replies~_

_Lucienteal: Aldashgklasdg nooo you._

_Sirenys: uM.  
LOLyes you did. C:_

_Snowskeeper: LOLOL. You. Thanks, though /v/  
Yesu OUO Part two, baby!  
LOL. A whole new chapter, a new fantastic point of view/slapped  
Ahh, it's nothing /v/ I'm sorry I couldn't write him as amazingly as wanted, but I did my best and I'm glad you liked it!  
Review response response response response:  
LOL.  
LOLOL. Link me maybe? C:  
LOL. Well, I'll leave you to that. llD Aren't you supposed to be dead, considering the rules of logic and science?_

_hardcoreGSfan: Alrighty! I'll try to keep updating fast, then! (Maybe not as fast as this, I'm typing so fast I don't have time to check for grammar errors and such llD I have two tests tomorrow so I am so screwed staying up lD)  
llD" It's Canada. We have snow all year round on dem mountains. Ask my fellow Canadians u v u  
Of course not! I love each and every one of my reviewers. They're all so much fun to talk to!  
Right! I'll fix those! Just give me a day or two llD" I'm kinda busy xD;;Thanks for catching those, though!  
LOLOL. Good idea. Here, have Zeta instead~ /pushes bunch of tributes for you to cuddle with_

_SnowSummer: Not quite yet, sorry! There's still part two and the mentors. Read the spot below review replies for more information~ u v u  
But thank you! ^^ A lot of people are looking forward to the fight scenes, so I'll try my best! _

_WinterBarrows: Alasdhgkas welcome back! /strokes your face in a totally not creepy manner/ No, just kidding. xD; But really, welcome bac Here, have this crappy chapter as a present/brick'd  
Asalkdhag noo. I'm not as good as you say, thank you so much /v/ And oh noes! Is your tamagachi okay? I remember I had one when I was like, six, and I dropped it in the toilet by mistake llD"" Oops.  
Oh really? That's so interesting! There are a lot of people that are March babies. /v/ So you're a pisces as well, then? Hello, fellow pisces! /v/  
Not to be creepy or anything, but what province do you live in? Sorry xD;; It's just so cool to find a fellow Canadian, most people here are from Asian countries or America xD;; Hello, fellow pisces Canadian author! /slapped uvu "" I hope I didn't creep you out or anything xD;;  
LOLOLOL. That made me laugh so hard. Especially 'Shera and Theo need to get married'. Omfg.  
LOL. Yes, they all die :C  
Yeah, the Rin chapter is confusing a lot of people llD" Sorry about that.  
LOL I know. Asin was huge. llD" Oops. (That sounds wrong—okay not gonna go there.)  
What. Dio on top of Sieghart? Link. Screenshot. Something. Nao. /v/  
Ahhh haha thank you ;; You're too nice!  
LOLOL. Nope, not at all! Now I'm just wishing I could've been there to witness that. xD Good fangirl work! /gives shiny gold sta  
Of course ou o I agree with you /v/ That was amazing of you. xD;; Hope your friend isn't creeped out or anything, though xD;  
Yes. Yes. Professor Layton/GC. Make it happen. I will love you so much please /brick'd  
Either way, welcome back~ (For like the 69x time) Lovely to hear from you agai _

**_Info on Part Two will actually have to come in a separate author's note a few days later, sorry! My time is up and I just want to update this chapter now, so…xD;; Please be patient! I will update it with Day 1 of Part Two, the 30 Days of Serdin. I am so sorry for the inconvenience ; A ;_**


	30. Part II Chapter Notes

_Hello again! I've finally gotten time to update._

_Either way, this is just a little author's note summarizing up the next few chapters. I'm planning to do a note like this for every part we enter u v u_

**Part II- **30 Days of Serdin

Day 1- Meeting the mentors

Day 2- Dressing tributes up – Elesis-Jin

Day 3- Dressing tributes up- Rufus-Zeta

Day 4- Chariot Presentations

Day 5- Introduction of training center; training

Day 6- Sharrif

Day 7- Saika

Day 8- Brendan

Day 9- Giou

Day 10- Selena

Day 11- Acho

Day 12- Lucifer

Day 13- Arcana

Day 14- Lucas

Day 15- Kae

Day 16- Aceline

Day 17- Aalis

Day 18- Michael

Day 19- Roseclere

Day 20- Training; skills

Day 21- More training; Spoilers

Day 22- Private sessions: Elesis-Kieran

Day 23- Private sessions: Lire-Dio

Day 24- Private sessions: Amy-Shera

Day 25- Private sessions: Asin-Zeta

Day 26- Training Session Scores

Day 27- Interviews

Day 28- Interviews

Day 29- Ending feast

Day 30- Preparation; Games begin


	31. Day 1

_Not much to say here, other than yey c: The start of part II! Are you guys excited? I am! Soon until the Chase Games!_

_So many OCs in one chapter! I apologize if I got any of them OOC. ; A ;_

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Day 1

"Approaching Serdin in five minutes," the peacekeeper arrives at Elesis's room, nodding politely.

The red haired female nods, sitting with her back facing the peacekeeper, tapping a pencil onto the polished wood of her desk.

"You'll head inside Serdin's castle immediately. You'll have some time to meet with your mentors and the other tribute. Then, the beauty teams will come to prepare for the chariot presentations. As a tribute of District One, you'll be with Sharrif as your mentor. Good luck and happy Chase Games."

The peacekeeper leaves as swiftly as she had arrived, as the train gives a large sigh, the breaks screeching as they were put into action. It jolted to a stop at the Serdin platform where many colourful citizens and eager announcers waited, hoping for interviews and glances at all the tributes.

"Miss Elesis, you are to lead the charge."

Elesis sighs and stands up, following the peacekeeper. Behind her, a tired-looking Ronan troops out of his room, peacekeepers at his shoulders.

One by one, all the tributes head out, looking the worse for wear.

Elesis lets her feet carry her on, mind numb. This was it. They were actually in Serdin. The Chase Games were reality. For the past few days spent on the train heading deeper and deeper into the districts, she'd been able to put off that matter to think about another time. Yet, here she was, in Serdin. Thirty days before the Games started. Thirty days before her death.

A wave of panic hits her, suddenly and surprisingly. She had always been good at keeping her fears in check—Elsword was young and it was up to her to protect him—So why did this happen now?

The peacekeeper touches her shoulder, urging her on. She obliges, glaring at the female as they descended the stairs.

Outside, they were immediately swarmed by interviewers, cameramen, and citizens, voices rising into the air to form a jumbled chorus. Peacekeepers pushed their way through to the main platform, where a group of people staring rather awkwardly at them stood out from the gaudy citizens.

"The mentors," A peacekeeper whispers, staring in both awe and slight disgust. "The Victors of their own Chase Games."

Elesis stared at the group, eyes wandering across, picking out interesting features here and there, from the people that had once been in her situation, that had to scale humanity and life between their hands and betray the people that had been there for them during the difficult times leading up to the Chase Games, all to remain alive. The simple cost of a life shouldn't be wasted, demanding such a high price in the Games. Yet all this thinking meant nothing to Elesis. She was in here to do nothing but win.

Ronan fell into step beside her, and together they were marched away from the group of tributes to meet their mentor, a white haired, tanned skinned woman with expensive gold chains coiling around her neck, in contrast to the simple—and slightly see through—white clothing she was wearing, with light floating fabrics and delicate silks. Around her slender waist was a gold belt, similar in fashion to the chains around her neck. The fine leather sheath held a weapon of medium length, one that Elesis presumed to be a type of sword or a dagger of longer length. Either way, it didn't matter. As long as the woman was willing to win, Elesis was satisfied.

Upon approach, the peacekeeper saluted. "Miss Sharrif, your tributes for this year."

The woman stared at them, turning luminous gold eyes onto Elesis and Ronan. Her eyes flittered around them for a second, and ruby lips widened into a yawn.

"Well, well," she purred.

Elesis narrowed her eyes. She'd dealt with people like this before. Sly, sneaky, and backstabbing. Always doing everything to get what they want in the easiest way possible. Just her luck, she had to get such a mentor.

Elesis nodded swiftly, and Ronan extended his hand. Sharrif pried her long fingers into his, in a grip that seemed unnaturally tight. She let go as Ronan slightly winced, smiling that same, coy smug smirk that Elesis wanted to wipe off her pretty face.

"Shall we?" Inclining her head towards the Serdin castle, Sharrif began to walk, Elesis and Ronan in tow.

_~Dangerous Times~_

She's escorted from the train, and the other tribute—Lass, she briefly remembers—guides her with a simple touch to the elbow, towards their two waiting mentors, a grey haired female and white haired male.

As she and Lass reached them, the female stares rather warily and extends a hand.

"Hi. I'm Saika."

Lass stares at her before giving a small shrug. "Lass. This is Arme, she's not speaking."

Arme faintly registers she should say something, but the moment passes before she could decide. Saika nods, letting her hand drop down awkwardly and staring at the male as if urging him to take the spotlight.

"Hey. Brendan here," he grabbed Arme's hand into a handshake, flashing a grin. "There. Saves you the actual action."

Behind him, Saika scoffed and looked the other way. "Sorry. He's unpredictable. Arme, are you alright?" She asked, in a softer tone, with gentle concern in her voice.

There it was. The question she seemed to hear from everyone these days. No, of course she wasn't 'alright'! None of this was alright! Her mother was dead, she was going to be, and yet everyone dared to ask her if she was okay in the face of such events? It was easy for Saika to say such things, she'd won her Game and it was over! She didn't have anything to worry about but what to eat for dinner!

Feeling a surge of anger for the confused female, Arme glared at her and walked away, dragging along Brendan, who hadn't let go of her hand just yet.

"Hey! Whoa, whoa, what's your problem?"

"My problem?" She explodes. "I'm about to die and you ask me what my problem is?"

The male's eyes harden, his face becoming more serious. "I know that," he straightened up, running a hand through his hair. "That's what we're here for, right?" He gestured towards Saika and himself. "To make sure you don't die a sad little death in the arena. Don't worry, we both have personal experience," he grimaced slightly. "Come on, I'll make you some pancakes."

Arme glared at him, her unreasonable hatred beginning to transfer from Saika to Brendan. How could they be so normal, so cheerful?

But he'd been right. What was her problem?

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Sup,"

Sieghart stops abruptly in front of their mentor, causing Kieran to nearly crash into him. "I'm Sieghart."

Their mentor, a male with scruffy brown hair, nods. "Where's the other one?" He asked, in a monotonous voice. From behind him, a tail looking a lot like a USB wire flicks twice.

Sieg stares at it, wondering what kind of crazy Serdin technology did that. Suddenly, he feared for their mentor's sanity, just a little bit.

"This is Kieran," Sieghart steps out of the way to reveal Kieran, who had been behind him.

The male nodded. "I'm Giou," He stated. "There's no need to hide behind your boyfriend. No one's going to hurt you here," He said, pointedly at Kieran.

"I was _not," _Kieran proclaimed hotly. "The idiot stopped suddenly and I nearly toppled over him." He got the impression their mentor was a very, very blunt person.

"Control your hormones," Was all Giou said, looking bored. "Let's go. You guys need to meet the beauty teams for the chariots, and I want to check the kitchen for nuggets."

_~Dangerous Times~_

Lire steps down from the train doors, Ryan following. She gathers up her long skirts—a lady must dress modestly—and steps away from the male, placing a good distance between them. Pretending to not notice Ryan's look of disappointment, she followed the peacekeeper's quick pace over to their mentor.

And instantly, Lire was stopped from scornful comments by the simply, unearthly beauty of their District Four mentor. It was as if she wasn't human—well, considering this was the district of elves, of course not—but this was something completely different. She was so pretty, everything simply clicking into place to form this image of peace, of unearthly belonging. She radiated such an aura that seemed so amazing, just so perfect, something that shouldn't belong on Earth. This was only complimented by the pair of pure white wings attached to her back, the winter white feathers touched by the soft breeze blowing north.

Lire was at a complete, utter loss for words. She assumed Serdin to be full of obese nobles with badly dyed hair, and her to be the center of attention with her natural emerald eyes, shining blonde hair, and fair skin, but she hadn't expected there to be people like…_this._

Lire's confidence faltered, just slightly.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"H-Hello!" He paused to take a breath, panting from his run. "I'm Acho. I get to be a mentor!"

Zero stared, not impressed. This scrawny, messy male was their mentor?

Acho blinked glassy, sleep-ridden green eyes as he glanced around at the other tributes and mentors.

"Maybe we could go elsewhere? The other mentors don't like me there—that's Sharrif, she likes to—" he paused. "Actually, let's not talk about that. Another time, another time—either way, let's go the castle—Okay, you don't want to go to the castle, that's fine…" he faltered under Zero's strict glance.

The demon scoffed. How in the world had this guy even won?

He walked past Acho, bumping into the slightly shorter male, causing Acho to stumble backwards slightly. Weak, too. Maybe he got really, really lucky.

Heading towards the castle, he saw Acho fall into step behind him, and he and Mari began to geek out on technology and talk about District Five. Feeling a slight pang of loneliness, he considered going back to join them.

No. It didn't matter that he'd basically just bullied his mentor. The only person that he needed and cared about was Oz.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Squirt."

Is his first word upon seeing the male.

Dio pushes aside Ley, wanting to see their proclaimed sadistic, brutal, killing machine of a mentor.

And comes face to face with a pouty twelve year old with anger problems.

"Excuse me?" The boy looked nonplussed.

"Shorty," Dio replies. "Where's our mentor?"

"Right here. But you're not going to keep him for much longer if you act like that," The boy glares at him, eyes hard.

"You mean you're Lucifer?" Dio snorts.

The boy—or Lucifer—urges forwards and Dio readies his rake hand, prepared for a battle now and here.

But Ley steps between them, grabbing them like puppies and promptly steers them towards the castle, looking uncharacteristically upset. Why? Normally she would be overjoyed to witness a battle, especially if Dio was concerned and on the losing end.

"Don't, please," She says softly in his ear, and Dio feels overwhelming anger.

The Chase Games changed people too much, emotionally. Why couldn't he act first and think later? Why was Ley so caring, so careful now? Why wasn't she the old hasty, rude demon that had once been his best friend?

"Just the thing your father would do," Lucifer states calmly, blinking his large eyes almost innocently.

That's it. Dio is ready to kill the damned brat, right there. He's only stopped when Ley grips him by the back of his neck, her claws that she calls nails digging into his skin and cutting off his air. Well, that was a bit of the old Ley. Stop your best friend by choking him.

Glaring at Lucifer, he walks to the castle, closely monitored by Ley, like a puppy being scolded.

Still, Dio wonders. Would his impulsive actions get in the way when the Games started?

_~Dangerous Times~_

As soon as Amy steps off the train, she squeals in horror and buries her face in Jin's chest, making said male desperately confused and scouring the area for danger. Had this all been a hoax, and the Chase Games were starting now? Where were the weapons, the dead bodies?

Millions of possibilities flowed through his mind and he readied his stance, willing to fight with his bare hands.

The only thing that he saw—and nearly made him throw up his lunch, too—was a horribly disfigured _thing _standing on the platform, waiting for him.

"Is that…" Amy trails off.

Jin nodded. He's seen this figure before on the news, and she haunted his dreams for a while.

Arcana Latrodectus Viduas, so desperate to win her Games she took some genetically mutilated potion to fuse with the antics of a black widow spider and eat up the other tributes.

_~Dangerous Times~_

_Boom, boom._

The sound of two shots being fired into the distance greet all four of them as they step down. Eshe looks at Rufus, glaring.

"That is not funny."

"What? My impossibly good lucks and our rotten fates?"

"Don't be cheesy. I'm talking about the shots! Are you trying to get us in even more trouble?"

"Don't be uptight. What makes you think that was me?"

"Who else obsesses over their guns like you?"

"Guys, probably not the best time to argue," Theo growled, stroking Shera's hair. The female was asleep, eyes puffy from the stress of being a tribute and drawing increasingly closer to Serdin. Still, Shera was beautiful in every which way and Theo was out to protect her, make sure she got good rest and healthy choices when she didn't feel up to it.

Eshe and Rufus shut up, the bounty hunter walking down, whistling a tone.

"Look at him, on his merry way. If we weren't supposed to die in a month—"

"Eyetooth!"

Eshe was interrupted by a flash of bright yellow neon, and Rufus found himself being violently attacked by something neon and surprisingly strong.

"What—"

The crazy blur stood up, revealing an innocent looking boy who had Rufus's guns in his hands and a murderous look.

"…Oh."

And that was their first greeting to the world of Serdin, with a weird, neon, triggerhappy mentor.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Saikaa!"

The grey haired female finds herself in the arms of a taller male, who had absolutely no respect for personal space. That or he was too dense to even realize what that _was. _

"Kae," She greets, struggling to get away. In the background, she can hear Brendan almost choking trying to hide his laughter, and she swears to god and lord above, if he made one comment she'd bomb the place with meteors. Happy 'fricken Chase Games.

Pushing herself away from Kae's embrace when the male refused to let go, she looks up at him. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "My tributes are boring."

"How so?" She inquired politely, attempting to dislodge herself from conversation as soon as possible.

"One's heartbroken and the other's mental," Kae replied back, ever so blunt.

Saika gave up trying to reason with the male.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Hello, I'm Lime," She nodded, politely shaking hands with the mentors. Raphel stood by her, having a conversation with their other mentor, a red haired boy wrapped in bandages.

"Aceline," said the female, gripping her hand with pursed lips. "That's Aalis. We'll be your mentors for the next month."

Lime nodded. "Nice to meet you," She greeted politely, though she had an increasing sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. One month. That was the countdown to the battles, the blood, the death, the Games. How she was going to keep her sanity for that long was a mystery. How she could stand living, breathing every day with the knowledge of her death drawing closer and closer was also a mystery. Why didn't she end it all, just then and there?

But that was disgraceful in the eyes of the Holy Knights, and though she wouldn't be returning back to them, she still wanted to hold their culture and laws with her as she entered the arena. She'd win through a pure heart and hard work, not trickery or manipulation.

So she walked into Serdin castle, listening to Aceline's training plan, and nodding here and smiling here and there when the mentor paused.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Hello, Rin," The charming man greeted her with a smile etched upon his handsome features, bowing down to pick up her hand and place a gentle kiss upon it.

"All is well, goddess," he assured the girl, and Rin blushed at receiving such attention in Serdin.

"I'm Michael. I'll be your personal mentor. After all, we can't afford to let the goddess of District Eleven die, correct?"

"No, we can't," Xion steps from the train, glaring. "And I'm sure they won't allow a mentor hitting on the goddess, either."

"I am simply doing my duty as a loyal citizen of District Eleven. Apologizes if I have gotten in your way, doing what is expected of me. Not that you'd know anything about duty, using the Reaper's name in vain," Michael spoke in ringing tones, staring with a bored expression at Xion.

Before the two can get any deeper into their conversation, Rin steps between a smug Michael and fuming Xion.

"Let's go inside," She says, rather timidly.

The two men obliged, but continued to throw dirty looks here and there, as Michael made small talk with Rin about her responsibility and future training.

_~Dangerous Times~_

When they reach the short, petite, white-haired girl, this is not what Jackie was expecting. He thought that a big bully of a man would greet them, not this innocent little thing.

And he certainly wasn't expecting the clicks, either.

The girl moved melodically, her hands making small motions, and her mouth opening. But instead of words, only clicks came out.

_Click, click. _She pointed to him and Zeta, then herself.

_Click, click, click click, click. _She made a fighting motion.

"…Sorry?" Jackie shared confused looks with Zeta.

She looked slightly frustrated, but tried again, with a different set of clicks and motions.

Jackie stared at her, then looked towards Zeta for help. The other tribute's attention had wandered from their mentor to a female with—were those _wings?—_standing at the District Four platform with two elves. Well, he'd be no help.

_Click. _Back to the girl again. What was she doing? Was she supposed to be their _mentor? _

Jackie gave up, then and there. They'd die in the Games. They'd die at first light. How were they supposed to train, to learn with a mentor that didn't seem to even know how to speak?

* * *

_That's a wrap! o u o_

_Review Replies:_

_Lucienteal: Aweakdghksalg . /kidnapped by you/ Oh you /v/_

_WinterBarrows: LOL. Well, I hope I won't disappoint c: Thank you~  
I was afraid no one would like part two and just stop reading llD"  
Yes, it's an early birthday present! Happy birthday! u v u And have this chapter too~/smothers you in chapter updates  
LOL. Thank yo And wow, you were up that late? I usually go to bed around 9-10 PM xD;; Either way, happy birthday to you as well!  
Ahahah stahp /v/  
Non we can be creepy fangirls together o uo  
LOLOL. Yes, yes, they do. Unfortunately Serdin doesn't offer tribute marriage services D8  
Asin be huge.  
Ohh. That picture. YES I KNOW IT OMFG LET ME LOVE IT FOREVER LIKE NOTHING CAN EXPLAIN MY LOVE FOR IT I SWEAR THE CREATORS MADE IT TO TROLL THE FANGIRLS.  
Okay, that aside, yes I know that picture c: It was my background for a while, too, but I replaced it with a sexy Prussia. (Hopefully you know Hetalia, or else that would've sounded really weird, since Prussia is technically a dead country and a landmass of Germany now. I can assure you I do not find landmasses attractive).  
LOLOL. You, milady, are amazing. C:  
Omfg he has Zero too? CanImeetthisfriendofyours-/SLAPPED  
Yesu ouo Non, it will be best story and DT will be behind it in levels of pro because my crappy writings cannot compare to yours hush /v/  
Asalkdghsg you have no idea how happy that makes me that someone misses reading my stories /v/_

_Sirenys: LOLOLWHUT—UM…thanks? xD;;  
Although you might not want to use my real name here. No Gayelina isn't my real name but it's something similar, I suppose?  
But yes gimme dem souls ouo_

_CrimsonFlarez: Ahh, thank you so much! I hope you're enjoying your stay at the Grand Chase category/fanfictiondotnet! Have you written any stories yet? Good luck! /v/  
I'm sorry. xD;; I get excited when I get new reviewers.  
Oh no, I would never give up on Dangerous Times. It's my darling bby and I fully intend for it to be my first story I've finished on here. u v u _

_Snowskeeper (All three reviews):  
Alrighty then, see you then.  
LOLWHUT. Are you serious? That's actually pretty cool xD;; Happy birthday to both of us, then! Oh, and, how do you know it's not the other way around, and you're the one that stole my birthday? o n o  
LOLOL. Okay xD;; Dem headcanons.  
Review response response…nope I give up.  
Review response:  
Nooo! Not the rhinos!  
LOL. Yes, blame it on the system. Smooth.  
LOLOL. Well, okay.  
Alrighty~  
LOLOLOL. I actually didn't think of it as you wanting me to make love to a shotgun. You have a dirty mind you.  
LOLOLOLOL. Your review made my sick in bed day so much more enjoyable. xD  
Alrighty, see you~  
Oh no, it's fine~ More reviews for me ouo /slappedsohard  
Alrighty OUO_

_Omnious: Oh no, it's okay~ Thank you for reviewing!_

_ Noo~ DT is okay at best xD It's really not good, but thank you! u v u  
Ahh` Thank you so much for the praise! And thanks for the birthday wishe No, you don't have to get me anything xD; Just telling me is more than enoug  
LOL. Oh my xD;; Don't tire yourself out from reading!_

_hardcoreGSfan: LOLOL. yes, it quite does. I'll try my very best to not!  
Mmmhmm~ Land of polar bears and maple syrup! xD;;  
Oh, really? Lucky! Here, we don't get snow days all that much because people are used to it xD; This year was a bit of a rainy season and we didn't get that much snow ; A ;  
LOLol. No worries /runs to you/ Let us huddle together under fangirlness and cuddle the tributes together!/slapped  
LOLOL. No one expected that, I don't think xD; I am the master of plot twist /slapped/ no, kidding xD;;  
Yesu dat character development. Feel it.  
Thank yo _

_SnowSummer: Yes, they will u v u  
LOl. Um…Well, I guess you can think of him as hot?  
It is :c I love my tragic storie  
Yes~ they ar _

_The Veteran Prince: well, I do have a tendency to update fast xD;;  
Ahh, please no /v/ Thank you so much! That makes me really happy you think so highly of it ^^ I hope I won't disappoint, then! C: _


	32. Day 2

_Ohh~ Two in one update! I was actually sick in bed earlier for two days so I had plenty of time to read and write. xD Harry Potter is one's best friend! _

_Either way, these are just two fairly short chapters about the tributes and their preparations. It's fairly simple and just straight on. I hope to make things a little more exciting in the next few chapters!  
Ohh, but there's foreshadowing. The scarves! Watch out for the scarve _

_Oh wow. Finally, chapter thirty! And DT is at 183 reviews, too, oh my gosh. I never thought this would've happened! Do you guys think we can make it to 190, or actually, 200? Oh gosh. If 200 happened I'd literally fall over from happiness. Let's see if it will happen! Though, I'm very, very grateful for the reviews I have already. All of the reviewers are lovely and we have such…interesting chats, to say the least._

_So it came to my attention that sometimes, the end of my chapters and often the review replies are being cut off = A = I don't know why fanfictiondotnet is doing this, but its stupid I8 For some stupid reason, when I check back on it in the doc it's perfectly fine, so I can't fix it, either I8 Either way, hopefully it's some weird bug thing and will be fixed soon, since I use the copy-n-paste uploading method rather than file upload._

* * *

Chapter Thirty: Day 2

As she steps into the beauty hall, Elesis instantly wants to turn right around and forget it all.

Citizens—the beauty teams—rush around, all with amazing hair colours, facial features, and fashion sense. Elesis stares, eyes unbelieving, at a female who runs by with _green skin. _

"Well, we're certainly in for a fun time," Ronan remarks casually, following Elesis's glance.

"Tell me about it," She replies back, dryly.

"Have fun," Sharrif, who Elesis has the grace of momentarily forgetting existed, commented with a rather smug face.

Elesis scoffed, ignoring the lurking female. "So. Where's our beauty team?"

"Right here!" A voice sang, and Elesis spun around to find a white haired girl standing behind her, red eye s wide with excitement. She had a measuring tape in her hands, and immediately set to getting Elesis's measurements.

"I'm Paris," She chatted as she worked. "I'll be the head of your beauty team!"

"Pleasure to meet you, Paris," Ronan smiled. "She's not that bad," He added, when Elesis huffed and crossed her arms, looking the other way.

Elesis ignored him.

"So, this is the one?" Paris remarked with an innocent tone, directly towards Sharrif.

The mentor sighed, nodding slightly. "Stealth isn't one of your strong points, is it?"

Elesis noticed that the mentor had a slightly shimmery, cerulean blue fabric in her hand. Sharrif walked over to Ronan, beckoning the taller male to lean forward. The knight did as he was told, and the female leaned in to tie the scarf around his neck.

"_Le marque du voleur," _She whispered, unusually solemn.

Ronan nodded nervously, wondering.

"Hey," Elesis said stupidly. "Why don't I get one of those?"

Sharrif and Paris stared at her for a moment, possibly wondering how someone could be so utterly stupid to interrupt an unexplainably serious moment such as this.

"Oh, _non, non non," _Paris gently spoke. "You get something far more important, Elesis," She held up a black fabric in her hands, of coarse leather.

Elesis stared again. "A loincloth?"

Paris just shook her head.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"A headband?"

Lass stared at Brendan, eyes wide. "You aren't serious."

Brendan nodded. "I am."

"You want me to wear a headband?"

"Actually," Arme interjected. "That's a scarf."

Lass stared at her. "This?"

"Mmhmm," She nodded, taking the cloth from his hands. She wound it gently around his neck and ended with a rather feminine looking bow, but he was hardly one to argue; only knowing how to tie a noose himself.

Brendan snickered. "You look wonderful."

"Shut up."

The scarf was olive green in colour, mismatched among Lass's blue striker's clothing he would be wearing for the chariots. And yet Brendan had demanded they wear them, for some strange reason or another.

He stole a glance at Arme. The pretty young female was sitting with her hands folded in her lap, a perfect example of posture and patience. So unlike him, fidgeting everywhere. After all, he was a thief. If his hands didn't move, if his feet didn't run, he didn't have dinner. So, sitting here, expected to wait for food and attention, was not something he believed he'd ever become used to, even if he did win the Games.

He found his gaze wandering to the scarf tied around Arme's neck. It was a nice indigo shade, the colour of sunset, matching perfect with her battle mage armor of light purple hues. Still, it reminded him of something—or someone.

For not the first time since his Reaping, Lass felt there was something more behind what they were told. It was shown in the way his beauty team members looked almost nervous, how Saika looked confused and stressed most of the time, how Brendan kept a constant eye out for any signs of danger or unrest—whatever what dare attack them, right here in Serdin, in the heart of power and leadership, it was big.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Here you go!" Their energetic, too-happy mentor tied the olive green scarf around Kieran's neck. He tugged on it, loosening it from its delicate silken strands, a while later.

"It's too tight," He complained.

Giou's mouth was set in a tight line, and he was looking at Sieghart with a crease in his forehead, normally set in an uncaring, indifferent line.

"What's up?" Sieghart asked their mentor.

Giou shook his head. "Must be a mistake."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

_~Dangerous Times~_

"There."

Their beauty team head, a surprisingly normal young woman with curly auburn hair and gold eyeliner, finished plaiting Lire's hair , the green ribbons entwined into the loose golden braid flashing in the light, falling down the female elf's slender back.

"You look beautiful."

Without hesitation, it slipped from Ryan's mouth into actual words.

Lire stared at him, surprised. The tortoiseshell patterned scarf around her neck—a mixture of different browns that fitted together perfect against her porcelain skin—swaying in the air conditioned room.

The male elf laughed nervously, fiddling with his own olive green scarf. He'd seen these scarfs around. A lot of the other tributes were wearing them. That boy from Three, the magenta demon from Six, the Raphel male from Eleven, for some. He was sure there were others, himself included. Why had they given him something so simple and bland, while Lire flourished under the light of noon sun, green and yellow armor rippling across soft skin?

Lire opened her mouth to answer, but, as the door creaked open, shut it before uttering a word.

Selena walked through, as brilliantly aglow and shining as ever.

"Ah, Lire," She acknowledged with a smile. "Almost done?"

"Y-yes," Lire stuttered. There was just something about Selena that made the both of them want to obey.

"That's good. And Ryan?"

He nodded, staring at the ground. "Finished."

"I just went to check on the stables," Selena continued. "I managed to get harpies for your chariot," She smiled, with a hint of playful teasing.

"Harpies?"

Like most elf children, Lire and Ryan had grown with stories of the bird-like monsters that terrorized the Elven Forest so long ago, fearless and uncontrollable in their slaughter and live-eating of their elven kin.

"Are they tame?" Lire whispered.

"Mostly," Selena replied, eyes dancing with a sparkle. "We want to make an impression, after all. See you in a bit!"

Lire and Ryan stared at each other, status momentarily forgotten.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Wow."

Acho mouths the word that flies around in everyone's head, Zero included, as Mari steps from the dressing rooms.

Gone was the girl with the glasses, the girl with the double coloured eyes, the girl with the unkempt, messily layered long hair. Her long blue haired was tied up in a messy, yet somehow arranged ponytail that flowed perfectly down her back and the fake wings, the tips growing lighter—no doubt a trick of dye learned in the crafts of Serdin—until completely white. A glowing blue stone ornamented her forehead, and a gentle waterfall braid fell from the sides to loosen as it joined her ponytail. Light white feathers expanded from her long tailcoat, draping over her shoulders to rest at her feet. A steampunk styled corset laced with belts and silk leaded to a short black miniskirt met with knee-high white boots, traced with gentle additions of sky blue that was becoming Mari's signature colour. Revolving blades reflecting the lights of blue, yellow and white danced around her waist, twirling and jumping in a pixie dance not of this world.

"What are those?" One of the team members asked, gesturing to the blades.

"Mari here summoned them. They're the Geas's Soul Takers."

An awed sigh fell over the room, but at the very back, Zero sat, arms crossed and Grandark resting at his sides. He'd somehow managed to get the sword in the place with no troubles—to which he later assumed was because of his positively murderous look. The beauty team had finished with him quick and nervously, and they had him sit at the back, all but forgotten, while they fawned over Mari and her complete makeover.

What bothered Zero was the lack of scarf. Mari's neck was perfectly clear, leading into a rather low collared white shirt that he assumed was part of the corset, beginning only over her breasts.

His own scarf—to which a nervous, squeaking Acho had given him a few minutes before—was tied around his neck, as Acho had requested. It was a deep magenta in colour, and smelled of something he hated. He knew this smell. Everyone knew it. It belonged to Dio Burning Canyon, that no good, stuck up poser chief that glared at every one of them as they entered the hall, emitting strong odors of fresh perfume—probably something fancy for the demon prince, but Zero preferred to think of it as women's perfume—and sending shivers down the spine.

So why were they making him wear _his _scarf? Zero swore to god, if this was some trick by Acho to make it look like he and the demon started a secret relationship and he was wearing his lover's items, he'd chop off the puny mentor's head, right there and then. God knows he didn't need it, the times he'd gotten confused wandering around Serdin and asked the same question three times.

Whatever it is, it bothered Zero. None of the other tributes were wearing pink! He even saw some of them wearing olive green—looking very uncomfortable none the less, but still wearing it, and Zero considered olive green to be _his _colour. He knew all the tributes were going to have colour schemes to represent the numbers they'd killed, and he wanted to claim olive green. But it seemed the colours had been already pink, and he was stuck with Dio's magenta, the colour of the stupid demon's hair. Acho probably got the worst end of the stick and landed with pink, for males.

But that still didn't explain why Mari didn't have anything. Zero had an uncomfortable feeling these scarves weren't their colour schemes, but someone else's.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"You look terrible."

The first thing Dio thinks he will say as Ley exits the changerooms would probably be something insulting, and he was right. It was.

She snorts. "Atleast I don't look like a failed peasant."

Dio clawed at his neck. "I wouldn't look so bad if it wasn't for this stupid scarf."

"Well, you've got it. Olive green," She snickered.

"Shut it."

Dio stared enviously at Ley's scarf. It was a dark magenta, perfectly matching the strange colour of his hair.

"Hey," He suddenly felt like a little kid again.

"What?" Ley snapped back.

"Wanna switch scarves?"

There was a pause. Then a sigh.

"Why not." Ley reached and detangled her scarf, giving the delicate magenta cloth to Dio as the male reached over and thrust his disgusting green one into her hand.

"Do you think Lucifer will get mad because of this?" Ley asked.

"Who cares," Was Dio's lazy reply. The male laid back and closed his eyes, waiting to be called down for the chariot race.

He felt Ley snuggle down next to him, and he tensed.

"I am rather sleepy," She murmured with a small smile.

"Stay on your side," Dio muttered grumpily and tried to turn over—which wasn't easy, on the one-person couch they laid on.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"What's this?" Amy demanded, as soon the attendant handed the pinkette her scarf.

"What's wrong, Amy?" Jin came from the other room, fully dressed in Rama gear.

The girl turned with tears beginning to pool in her large pink eyes. "Jin, nothing goes right!" She exclaimed.

Then he saw the thing in her hand. Dusty and chalked, layered with grime and dried mud, he rushed over.

"There must be a mistake," He said, fingering his own scarf of white, with delicate shades of purple overlapping the borders. It reminded him of home, of Asin Tairin, and, strangely, of the unnamed boy they'd 'adopted', so to say.

The attendant shook his head. "This is the scarf Miss Arcana wishes you wear for your meeting tonight."

Amy broke down in full on sobs. "I can't wear this!" She exclaimed. "That woman! Our mentor! She hates me! She can't do this!"

"Calm down, Amy," Jin stroked the girl's shoulder, gently. "We'll figure something out."

"What?" Amy wept. The stress of the previous week and turn of events had finally gotten even someone as lively as her to break down.

"…" Jin was silent. He didn't have an answer, as much as he wanted to relieve Amy of her troubles.

He stared at the attendant, dismissing him. Right now, Jin wanted to be alone with Amy, to comfort her and tell her everything was going to be okay. God knew the both of them needed that right now.

* * *

_Foreshadowing! Dun dun dun. If anyone doesn't get the whole scarves and colours thing, I might post a little note at the end of Day 4. That, or just wait until the actual Chase Games!_

_Review Replies~_

_Sirenys: LOLOLWHUT—Thanks?  
/grabs all your souls/ yee min _

_Lucienteal: DT is making a lot of people die nowdays llD"  
Awaesdlgkagsd only because they're your pro OCs /v/  
Yesu Acho Abuse ou o  
And thank you! I hoped you'd be okay with it, they were so pro I couldn't write them correctly ; u;  
Aaslkhgiasgd of course but hush I have no pro you have all my pro_

_WinterBarrows: LOLOL. Good, good, glad to know there wasn't c:. Well, apart from Jackie and his whole "Oh crap" thing, but all of them are fucked in the end, anyways c;  
Glad you enjoyed it! I was actually thinking you might be mad since I seem to be placing your OC in awkward situations a lot. I'll stop if it bothers you any way in the slightest, so please just tell me~ But it's a relief to know that's not the case!  
Thank goodnes  
/v/ Oh stahp you make me feel like DT is this high and mighty thing lD"  
LOLOLOL. Well, I can't beat that llD. But omg. You like SuperPaperBag's stories too? They're amazing! I was actually inspired by them to make a little ZeroXDioXSieghart story of mine that's currently under developmen I'm hoping to publish it around the middle or a little bit after spring break~ u v u Though I'm slightly worried since I've never written boysonboys love before, fluff or smut llD" /continues ranting on about amazing authors in the GC section, you included, how do you guys write fluff like this it's hard  
Oh god that sounds perfect. I don't know if The Veteran Prince would approve of her OCs getting married, but nevermind, we have substitutes /turns evil eye towards Sieghart and Kieran/ /Gets brick'd to Pluto/ No, I'm kidding, I'll stop, I really will xD;; But maybe JinXAmy maybe? o u o  
YES. They know exactly what we fangirls want. Now if there was only one for DioXZero as well-/slapped  
YES YES THESE FEELINGS YOU UNDERSTAND THANK YOU-  
Awaelhgsgk you love Hetalia too? Come here so I can squeal in delight and choke—hug you. o u o  
Awaelhsg I'm so jelly ; n ;  
Yes yes you love Sieghart and Rufus as well we must fangirl together  
Aal;skg;sadg no you are worthy DT is rushed crap I don't put enough time into thinking of lD Your stories are amazing! ; u ;  
Aaslhdgsa favourite story? Oh gosh /v/ I'm glad you like it so!_

_3Complete3: Thank you so much! ^^_

_XxCrystalzxX: Ahh thank you so much! It always makes me so happy when someone says they love one of my stories /v/  
Ahh, I see! What fic is it? Well, whatever it is, I wish you both good luck and creative writing! I haven't been able to read much fanfiction lately, so I've probably missed out on a lot of good ones. xD:; Either way, it's always nice to do a collab with your friends!  
Ohh, did she? Haha, now you're making me embarrassed. xD; Was my reply that amazing or funny or anything?  
LOL. Well, I hope you're alright after her hug! _


	33. Day 3

_190 reviews! Oh my gosh. Awaesdglasdg someone slap me because I must be dreaming. Oh my goodness. _

_Thank you all so much! u v u _

_This is a bye-bye to Sirenys, who is going away to China for all of spring break. Have fun! Q A Q /waves_

* * *

Chapter Thirty-One: Day 3

"Four tributes!" The short girl with bubblegum pink hair squeals, clapping her hands together in delight, only adding onto the misery of the four standing before her.

"Strip," She commands, suddenly and casually. "Let go of those filthy rags so I can take your measurements."

Theo eyed her, his own eyes wide with disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," The beauty team member replied back absentmindedly. "Start undressing. It's no big deal."

Rufus snorted and crossed the room. "No."

For once, the other tributes agreed. They were not going to show their…_parts _to some stranger that they'd be aiming to kill later on.

The beauty team lady shook her head. "You are a troublesome four. Don't know what that redhead was doing, requesting more."

"What."

Rufus crossed the room quickly, and, with no respect for the woman's fresh hairdo, yanked her head up.

"What redhead?" The bounty hunter growled, breath soft and calculated.

The woman gulped, swallow hard as she looked down, unwilling to answer.

"Tell me," In true bounty hunter style, Rufus yanked the woman's head up, pulling a few candyfloss hairs out.

"T-The redhead," She stuttered, whimpering. Cowering, her dainty arms weakly nudged at Rufus's solid grip, begging him to let go.

With the female muttering rubbish and nearly crying, Rufus dropped her in disgust. Scowl on face, he snarled when Eshe quietly tapped him on the shoulder. The mage drew back slightly, having had her fair share of violent bounty hunters back in District Eight. She tapped her finger to her lips and pointed to the window on his left, holding the District Seven tributes, and he realized what she was pointing to.

There, standing, staring at a lively pink-haired girl.

A man with hair as red as the brilliant hues of sunrise, cloaked in dashing armor with a grin on his face.

The District Eight tributes all wore the same expression on their faces. They'd kill that man, that redhead, the one that had landed them four into this mess. Without him, two of them—most likely Theo and Shera—would be happily safe in District Eight, content for another year.

The sound of the door sliding open made them spin around, hate of Jin momentarily forgotten. Lucas walked out, dressed in flashy colours of bright neon. The mentor held in his hand four pieces of cloth, something that they later recognized to be scarves.

"Here you go!" He handed them around with a grin on his face, like a man giving children candy.

"What's this?" Shera asked, holding her tortoiseshell scarf carefully.

"Just scarves," Lucas replied vaguely.

"What are they for?" Theo held an olive green one.

"Nothing. Just simply…items."

Rufus stared at the triggerhappy mentor, not entirely trusting his gifts. His was a scarlet red, like the colour of blood. Seeing it reminded not of the District Seven male, but of the flaming hair of the District One female—Elesis, was her name. Either way, he didn't like the colour. Too flashy, able to be seen from far away.

"Put them on," Lucas encouraged when they stood around holding the items awkwardly like bombs.

Eshe sighed and went ahead, tying her water blue scarf around her neck. It fitted nicely against the simple leather robe she was wearing, and the other tributes followed her almost mechanically.

Looking around, they all looked very mismatched with their scarves of different colours, but Luacs looked pleased.

"Now they'll know," He said, still smiling.

Rufus gave a curt nod and sat down, waiting.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Sion stared at the other tribute, tapping her fingers on the wooden arm of her chair. Her white and black spotted scarf looked snug against her neck, blending in with the hues of her simple fighter's outfit. She stiffed a laugh as Asin was forced into an overly fancy fighter suit the beauty team assured they would be doing something certainly…special to, later—much to the boy's confused horror.

Not long ago, Sion would've laughed at the boy's predicament. However, she couldn't. For the male, who had once had nothing, had everything now. A name, an outfit, a mentor, everything. And now the chance to go down in history as a Victor. She felt anger, at how easily everything had fallen into Asin's lap, but they weren't rightfully his. His name belonged to her mentor, someone respected and caring. Though she was thankful to the boy for saving Tairin, she couldn't help but remember the way Tairin had looked so positively _worried _when the boy stepped up. Had anyone looked that way for her? Had all her services inside the Silver Knights meant nothing? They'd simply set her off and replaced her rank.

She felt so weak, so helplessly weak, and for no reason at all but her own envy.

Asin had a scarf too. A brilliant, sunrise red, the colour of Jin's hair.

Jin. Remembering him was not something she'd had the chance to do often, but more than not she found certain objects reminding her more and more of the Silver Knight.

_I hope he's happy with that pinkette, _she thought bitterly, the image of Jin holding Amy tightly etched onto her mind.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"If I may ask, what are these for?" Lime held the scarf at a distance, wrinkling her nose at the dirty cloth.

Aalis only stared at her. "Put it on, please."

"This?" Lime stared at Raphel, who already had his olive green scarf around his neck, very elegantly.

"Go on," Aceline shot a strange look at Aalis, perhaps questioning the boy to why he would give one of their tributes such a dirty thing.

"A-Alright," Lime stuttered. "Does it have to around my neck?"

Aalis nodded grimly.

She delicately tied the fabric around her neck, hesitating at the feel of the cloth against her neck. Surprisingly, it didn't feel as bad as it looked. Perhaps it was just the design that made it look so positively repulsive. Either way, she didn't like it, not at all.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Why would you give me something like this?" Rin cried, holding up her scarf. It was dirty, to say the least. The mismatched colours made no sense and gave the impression of blood and dirt.

Michael nodded gravely. "I would prefer not to, but they insist that you do."

Rin just glared at him, delicately tying the fabric around her neck. Surprisingly, it was clean, but it still didn't make her feel any better.

Meanwhile, Xion stared blankly at his. It was nothing but a dull grey to him, being colourblind and all. Still, he couldn't tell anyone. The last thing he needed in the Games would be a bad reputation and a weakness. Shrugging, he tied the fabric around his neck and waited.

To the normal eye, the fabric was the colour of bright red, blended with shades of green and brown, so alike the colours of a certain berry.

_~Dangerous Times~_

_ Click, click. _The girl smiled, looking slightly down.

Zeta nodded and smiled quickly, making sure to show his gratitude. If this was his mentor, he'd better make the best of it. According to what he could understand of her strange sounds and actions, she was either complimenting them on their outfits or directing them to the old abandoned Kanavan castle. He'd decided to accept it as the first and be polite; after all, she might have some helpful tips.

Watching her closely, Zeta saw Roseclere draw from her bag two cloths. She held them up and he realized that they were scarves—shimmering in the distant light. The one that she held up for him was olive green in colour, the one she gave to Jackie a dark, endless black.

"T-Thanks," he took his own, watching as Jackie accepted the depressing black scarf from their white haired mentor.

Tying it around his neck felt wrong. Zeta tried to calm himself, telling himself he was being silly and it was just a scarf. Nothing more, nothing less. So why did it bother him so much?

Perhaps it was the colour. Olive green, reminding him of something familiar. Perhaps, another tribute?

* * *

_Yey! Finally, the introductions are somewhat finished. Next chapter will be when they actually meet each other!_

_Review Replies:_

_Lucienteal: Aasdlghsadg noo/revives you/ It's not pro water you talking about stahp I8.  
Awaegldsg no stop it's your OCs they make DT so much better I am just the messenger and your OCs are the shiny gold rings.  
Aaeogsgdl no you are worthy /strokes your face/ I'm not worthy to have you and seme-papa ;u;_

_Sirenysislate: Haha no I'm making everyone wait for this one no spoilers I8 /slapped  
LOLOL. Well, it's quiet easy, so go o Use dem artistic genius genes.  
/revives you  
LOLOl. Non I rabu you very much but your reviews replies are so short cause idek what to say sorry ; A ;?  
/accepts all your souls and licks/ my precious_

_WinterBarrows: Non it's far from perfect, please I8  
Sorry! I'm not giving out any spoilers for this c: But you're probably right, whatever your speculation is xD;; It was just a really simple thing I thought up and was like "omfg I should do this".  
Ohh, thank yo don't think it's all that clever, though xD;;  
Tribute chariot outfits-/SLAPPED/ /Is not a fashion designer/  
LOl. Alrighty~ c: No stahp I'm sure you write your characters in the best way possible with your pro writing skills u v u  
Aaselgasg stahp /v/ DT is not pro, nor am I /v/.  
AWEISD:LIGHS I know right? I fell in love with DioXZero from Magi'ianDoll's One Plus One, Remember it Please and was so heartbroken when it was discontinued D8 But then I stumbled upon SuperPaperBag and was like "Omfg are you GOD"  
LOL. Alrighty c: I'll try my very best to go through the planning and get the story up, then! O u O  
LOL. I see xD;; Alrighty, I'll use those rules if I ever write fluff ou o  
Oh gosh xD;; Honestly, I don't plan my plot twists xD;; I just look back on all the chapters and see if I can find material to turn into something interesting for the latest plot twist or big revea Like the scarves, for example. In the original draft they were just something Roseclere was going to give to Jackie and Zeta for good luck, and I was like "Hey…I can make this work! O u O"  
LOLYES. SiegXKieran. OTP. OTP man./SLAPPED/ Well, I am fond of creating sexual tension-/slapped/ Uh, I mean, friendships between coworkers, and, since Kieran was with Sieghart in District Three… /face/  
YES. YES YOU HAVE THE SAME STRAIGHT PAIRINGS AS ME TOO THANK YOU. There's just been a lot of LassXLire lately, and though I like it—I also ship it somewhat, my motto is to ship all the things—I just really like LassXArme as well okay lD"  
Hopefully they'll answer the fangirl calls and make some sexy boys soon c:  
Yee agreed /passes cookie/ Have a cookie, fellow Hetalian c: /fangirls  
LOl. That's basically me with DT, though lD I just write up the rough draft and type it in like 3 hours or so. xD;; It's not well thought out please /v/.  
Ahh thank you so much! /v/ DT is really nothing and it gets so much praise /A/  
They are xD;; Well, good sign we have a lot to chat about, I suppose? C:_

_Darkeinjel: Lol~ Thank you so much!  
Ohh, yes, I understand~ DT's main purpose for was fighting and dying, either way. Of course! I'm attempting to write almost any time I have currently—which is a bit hard, just a bit, considering its Hayato's hot weekend on Maplestory/slappedsohard/-but I'm really trying to get all the chapters up as soon as possible! ^^  
Well, most of the couples will end tragically since they're all supposed to die llD"  
Oh yes, of course! I'm planning to do a lot of canon for the Chase Games c: But since this is the 30 Days of Serdin, currently, it's mainly about the mentors. Please be patient! The Chase Games will start soon enoug  
Haha, thank you.I won't!_

_hardcoreGSfan: LOl. If I recall, I believe ffdotnet auto signs you off after a while. It's really annoying, but I suppose it's to stop hackers or so?  
Glad you like them! C:  
LOl. Yes. I was aiming for humor there. Elesis is the comic relief currently, anyways c:  
O U O You're probably right, whatever you're thinking.  
Oh, but who said switching their scarves had any effect? ;D  
Oh, good luck xD;; I know how you feel. Homework has been piling up for me since I missed some school due to illness _ "  
Aw D8 Well, I understand. Good luck with your homework!  
(Second Review)  
Well, he doesn't know, right? xD;;  
But, as I said, who said switching scarves had any effect? 8D  
And I'm sure Zero's fine. He has a lot of others to kill, either wa "_

_3Complete3: Ohh~ Thank you so much! ^^ And haha, I'm really not, but thank you none the less. _


	34. Day 4

_Oh my god. 200 reviews. Two hundred freaking reviews. For my story. Words cannot explain what I feel right now._

_Thank you all so, so much for taking the time to read and review my little story. I honestly never expected this to reach even twenty, and yet, here are we, are two hundred. _

_You guys honestly have no idea how much this means to me. Writing is my passion, my art, and frankly, my life, and it make me so happy that people are willing to read my works and give such kind words or small corrections upon it. _

_I've had a lot of great chats with all the reviewers during the review replies. It's been amazing to write the canon characters and other authors' OCs, and receive feedback on how I did. _

_Honestly, recently I hit a really bad case of authoring blues, since it's my dream to publish a book and my originals are not met with the greatest of praise, due to their lack of development in certain areas and my age/grammar. But you guys are here, and reading Dangerous Times, and praising it with such kind words, and it really makes me happy. _

_So here we are, at thirty something chapters, before the Chase Games actually start, and already at 200 reviews. _

_Because of this, I fully intend to finish Dangerous Times, even if it means putting aside my originals and other fanfictions. It's really dear to me because of all the reviewers that always compliment it so dearly and make it sound so high and professional. _

_So here, have a long chapter I worked day and night on to celebrate. Thank you all, so much. ^^_

_Other notes:_

_-Oh my god clothing descriptions just let me kill myself here and now. _

_-I wrote this chapter in two different moods, so there might be a change in the writing style halfway or so. _

_-I didn't skip District Nine. I combined it with District Eight to save linebreaks. _

_-Did you know a lot of the Chase's weapons are real? I always assumed Ronan's sword was just made up by the Chase, but apparently the Tyrfing is a mythical sword in Norse mythology, and the ssanggeom_ _is apparently some dual wielding art or something. You learn something new everyday! _

_So, dear readers, tuck yourself in and get a hot mug of tea or coffee or hot chocolate or whatever it is you drink. This is gonna be long! u v u_

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Two: Day 4

They ride out, in a large chariot pulled by horses decorated with sashes, cloths, and jewels of many colours. Broadcasted live on television, the tributes from District One for all to see.

Ronan Eurdon is dressed in the fine materials of honored knights, with an indigo and white cape, suit, and gloves. Gold medals decorated his chest, epaulettes with indigo and golden lining resting regally on his shoulders. His long hair tied back, dark blue eyes solemn and regarding. He looked every bit the aristocrat knight ready for a duel of honor, steady and warning, with his sword planting firmly in the ground, waiting.

However, Elesis stole the cake as she came into view, poised and deadly. With her long red hair tied into a high ponytail, her crow's wings bangs revealing her bright, steady crimson eyes. She had a long brown overcoat on, the front hanging open loosely but fittingly. The collar was turned upwards, to graze at her chin, laced with white lining slowly melting into gold as the coat travelled over Elesis's hips, down to her ankles. She had on snow white pants, complete with a light red shirt that was left teasingly open at the neck, down to her collarbones. Her fingerless brown gloves and high brown and red boots were lined wtih small chunks of fake gold, lightweight but beautiful all the same.

They were armed with weapons to compliment their themes, a classy idea suggested by Ronan, who very desperately wanted to summon magic for the show.

Ronan was armed with a white blade, a Tyrfing, the cursed blade. Its aqua and black lining shot up to a purple handle decorated with golden wings, and, at the heart of the blade, a glowing ruby jewel.

In his other hand, Ronan held a glowing blue light, sparks of white energy flying out here and there. His jewelled gloves held the Tyrfing and his own magical extract.

Elesis took a more direct approach, with her white and red coloured twin blades. The blades were sheathed and resting on the back, the female carrying the weight of both and moving with gentle ease. If the swords were heavy, she certainly didn't show it.

Their gold and silver battle chariot with an open back drew to a stop at the end of the hall, with millions of cheering citizens in their wake. As Ronan and Elesis climbed down, Sharrif greeted them. The female's chains seemed newly polished and her clothes once again loose around her slender figure. The only indication that she was even somewhat excited for the event would be the slight sparkle in her grey-purple eyes.

"Well done," she nodded. "Perhaps Paris was smart, putting Ronan out as the legendary Abyss Knight," her eyes flickered to Elesis, whom she eyed with certain interest. "And the Saviour."

Elesis tried to turn around to get a look at the swords. "These are Ssanggeom, right? Can I use them?"

Sharrif sighed. "They're not easy to wield, Elesis, and these have been strapped for safety measures."

"Oh, and Ronan gets to walk around with a huge sword and magic hand?"

"He," Sharrif glared at the male. "Will put that out and away. Training's not that far off. If you want to kill each other then, I'm not against it."

Elesis only sighed and thought longingly of the swords on her back. Dual wielding was difficult enough, and dual wielding swords was nearly impossible and highly dangerous. But if she had the skill, the other tributes wouldn't stand a chance. She had to learn, and as much as Sharrif annoyed herm, the woman was still a great swordsman.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Thyey were next. Arme was at the front, staring straight ahead with her War Staff planted firmly on the ground beside her. The ponies that lead their chariot were beautiful palomino horses, still sporting their winter coats of creamy white. Draped with sashes of purple and blue colours alternating, the horses led the flower decorated chariot with red velvet seats, the air beneath their hooves churning gently. Then, with a collective gasp from the audience, the faint air suddenly swirled to become fluffy white clouds, delicate against black pavement.

Arme smiled. This was a simple little trick she'd learned from spending time reading spellbooks in District Two, and the chance to use it had never surfaced since now.

Thinking of home made her nostalgic, and she wondered if her father was watching from the big television screen set in center square. If he was, she hoped he was proud, seeing her up there and looking so bold. Truth be told, Arme felt like she was going to wither and fall from the chariot any moment now, under the pressure of Serdin's citizens glaring closely at her, watching her every move. If she didn't make an impression now, she had no sponsors for the rest of the Games. Faint white clouds swirled around the top of her wand, a sign that she was the one casting, and a small ruby smile made its way onto her lips as she heard the audience sigh, content with her little trick.

She was dressed in lightweight, delicate cloth, shades of purple and white lined with gold. Her top had no sleeves, connecting from her neck to the short white skirt and longer, wider wrap she wore. The skirt ended just barely above her thighs, but was covered by the gold and dark purple wrap that fawned over her knees like the opening of a flower bud. Her purple boots went up to just a little above her ankles, lined with golden wing decorations. In her purple and white gloved hand, she held a staff taller than she. This was the War Staff, a staff that Battle Mages—magicians designed to take the frontal line in combat—used, a symbol of upmost power. The staff was designed to match her colour scheme, with purple velvet for the long handle. The bottom end zeroed off to a pointy gold tip, and the top of the staff held purple amethysts, with two golden crescent moons to the side, helped with white lining. Her hair was tied back, the short purple strands gathered into a small ponytail complete with a golden crown accessory. Overall, she looked like the cheerful, lively little magician, but quickly could become the deadly mage trained especially for head on combat.

Beside her, Lass rested in the shadows, bright blue eyes luminous. He stood upright as directed, much to his embarrassment at his rather revealing Striker outfit.

He had a grey headband that rested loosely, slipping down towards his right eye. He was cloaked in a huge blue cloak, but the gentle breeze stirred up by Arme's clouds made it flap about, the dark blue lined with gold flying out behind him. Inside, he had a blue and black turtleneck, one that stopped just at the bottom of his ribcage, exposing his stomach. He wore a thin gold belt and tight black pants, with gold-grey boots that started below his knee. His silver hair was its usual, unkempt mess, flopping over the sides of his headband. Iron epaulettes gave way to his bare arms, with the tattoo of a four edged blade on his bicep. In his fingerless black gloves he held a long, thin blade, slightly decorated with blue and black. The blade was long and narrow, and he had the sheath at his side. _It's a Nodachi, _he recalls Brendan telling him. _An old sword that requires finesse to wield and use. _The sword was somewhat heavy, unlike the small daggers he was used to holding, and he had to watch the blade so he didn't accidentally stab Arme in the cramped space of the chariot.

They drew to a stop and Lass climbed down first, sheathing his Nodachi and offering a hand to Arme when the mage found it difficult to get down holding a huge staff.

Saika and Brendan greeted them when they stepped out, along with the District One tributes and mentor.

"You guys were great!" Saika exclaimed. "Arme, that cloud trick was wonderful!"

Arme, feeling the excitement of the crowd and face bright as the lights focused on her, nodded happily, her lament forgotten. "Thank you!"

"Well," Brendan chuckled. "I'm off to secure some sponsors for you two. That cloud thing really did them in, I can tell."

"You sure?" Saika asked. "I can do it this time."

"Naw," Brendan shook her off. "You just have fun introducing them to Sharrif," He smiled coyly, then was off, heading to the strands where Serdin nobles sat.

Saika grimaced. "Right."

"Sharrif?" Arme asked, and Lass frowned. That was a strange name.

"Her full name is Kamilah Sharrifakh Heroliohapht," Saika informed. "But we call her Sharrif," Her tone darkened. "Or something less than stellar."

Before Arme or Lass could respond, she steered them towards three people; a female with flaming red hair and eyes, with double blades strapped to her back, a male with indigo hair and a long, silver sword, and another female, with purple-white hair, tanned skin, and grey-purple eyes.

"Sharrif," Saika greeted, towards the female with the strange grey-purple eyes.

"Saika," Sharrif returned the greeting, calmly.

"These are your tributes for the year?" Saika eyed the two Sharrif was standing by. Arme smiled nervously at them, all four of them looking equally uncomfortable.

The red haired female scoffed and turned her head away to watch the other tributes' chariot, two males in a black and white striped chariot drawn by grey and white spotted ponies. Elesis noticed that one of them—the male with black hair and purple streaks—didn't have the signature scarf around his neck, much like her.

Ronan, however, smiled back and shook Arme's tentative hand, gripping her small gloved hand in his own. A few white sparks flew out and Arme withdrew with a cry as Ronan, smiling sheepishly and apologizing, coughed and extinguished his light blue orb. Arme only nodded knowingly, having had accidental magic spells embarrass her as well. Lass, however, was less kind and laughed right out loud at Ronan's mistake, the indigo knight glaring at the silver haired thief.

"I'm Arme," Arme introduced herself to break the tension.

Ronan nodded. "Ronan, at your service. That's Elesis. Sorry about her, she's a bit temperamental."

"You sound like you know her well," Arme noticed, trying to make conversation.

Ronan shrugged. "Somewhat. We had time to talk during preparations."

"That's like us as well," Arme said brightly, gesturing to Lass.

"And who's he?"

"I'm Lass," Lass replied back as Arme opened her mouth.

Ronan stared. "As in…a young girl? That lass?"

Lass coloured as Arme giggled.

"No," Lass clarified, with some difficulty keeping a straight, solemn face. "That's my name. Lass."

Ronan still stared at him slightly strangely. "Well, Lass, nice to meet you."

Lass nodded. "You as well."

"Ah, you guys are getting along well," Sharrif broke into the middle of the conversation, a devilish smile on her face. Lass and Arme only stared back innocently, oblivious to the female's tricks and cruel nature.

"Indeed," Ronan confirmed, a little too brightly.

"Don't forget you'll all be killing each other sooner or later!" Sharrif clapped Lass on the back, her face positively aglow, in complete contrast to her dark words. "The next few tributes are coming. Have fun!"

And with that, she was off, walking back to a nonplussed Saika, who had a forced smile on her face, leaving four utterly shocked tributes in her wake.

_~Dangerous Times~_

The crowds cheered louder than ever as Sieghart and Kieran rode out, in a casual black and white striped chariot decorated with the occasional gold lining and fake flower here and there. And, of course, the crowd's cheering was for them. Two unbelievably good looking men—though, Sieghart personally considered himself more attractive than Kieran, just a little bit—riding out in full battle gear.

He himself was dressed in the fashion of Prime Knights, holding the giant blade of the Soluna in his hands. With a loose black cape fixed to his shoulders by golden chains, they crisscrossed his neck and lazy loosely to rest just below his collarbones. The collar of the cape was tucked just below his chin, two separate black strands of cloth blowing in the gusts created by the ponies' fast racing. Instead of a slow march, Giou had thought it better to have the energetic and hardly ponies run around for a few laps, to make the boys' clothing and hair flap around wildly.

Underneath the cloak, Sieghart had a tight black top, lined with traces of yellow and a collar. There was a belt—cushioned, of course, to avoid digging into his skin—on his bicep, to fasten the cloak tightly in, and four smaller belts kept his thin black gloves intact.

For bottoms he had white pants, knees padded with larger belts. Thought the buckles made it hard for him to bend, his beauty team had assured him all the belts were very stylish. He had two more belts; on his white shoes, right at the front.

His finely chiseled features were complimented by the purple streaks they added into his hair, after cutting it into uneven layers and creating a natural, windblown look using small amounts of gel.

Sieghart smiled and winked at female fans in the audience, causing an uprising of screaming and cheering.

On the other side, Kieran was receiving the same reaction from fans. Since the wind blew so strongly, the male had given up attempting to cover his face with his hood. His brown hair fell down to just graze his shoulders, scruffy from spending most days hidden deep in Kieran's hood. His pale skin was touched by the sun, thought all warmth was blown away by the winds. Dressed in simple clothing, a fitting tunic matched brown pants and lead to heavy black boots.

Their chariot drew to a stop after the tenth lap, and the ponies trotted over to where Giou waited, his arms crossed and tail flicking, at the end of the presentation hall.

Sieghart climbed out as Giou gave the ponies a sugar cube, simply hopping over the side and taking his Soluna with him.

"That was awesome," Sieghart exclaimed, looking back at the still screaming crowd. "They wanted me."

Giou just snorted. "More like in your pants."

"In addition to having a great personality, I also am great in bed." Sieghart grinned.

"We don't need to know that." Kieran pulled his hood back up, enough to cover his eyes completely.

"Don't do that, dude," Sieghart reached and snatched it down, much to the necromancer's disapproval. "It makes you look like some creepy guy."

Kieran only huffed. "It feels safer with it on."

Sieghart laughed in response. "We're in Serdin, the capital. Twenty-six days from dying. Do you honestly want to feel safe?"

"When you put it that way, it sounds more like a deadly disease than a wanted emotion," Kieran spoke dryly.

Sieghart blinked. "Cause that's what it is," he said brightly. "If you feel safe, you don't do anything in life."

"I suppose getting Reaped is _something, _then?" Kieran rolled his eyes. If there was someone worse than him, it had to be Zeke Sieghart.

"It sounds like you said 'getting raped'."

"Don't go there."

The two wandered over to the four other tributes, meeting a female with scarlet red hair first.

"I'm Elesis," she introduced herself when they walked up.

"I'm Sieghart," Sieghart smiled an impossibly white smile and extended a hand.

She stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Hm?"

"Did you say your name was Sieghart?"

"Yeah?" Sieghart looked confused at being questioned about his identity.

"That can't be," Elesis insisted.

"It's my name," Sieghart shrugged. "What's it to you?"

"No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not!" She nearly shouted.

"Okay, fine, you got me. MY first name's Zeke, and Sieghart's my last name. Now, calm down, will you?" Sieghart threw up his hands.

Her eyes got wider. "No."

"What," Sieghart looked exasperated. "Are you going to say my hair is fake—"

"I'm Elesis. Elesis Sieghart."

Sieghart stopped talking mid-sentence and stared at her. "Sorry?"

"I said—"

"No, I heard what you said. But how's that?"

There was silence for a while, the black haired male staring at the red haired female. Kieran choose this time to worm himself out of the conversation and go to bug the other three tributes—two males talking together, one with indigo hair tied in a ponytail and the other with white-grey hair falling over his iron headband, plus a sweet looking female with short purple hair pulled back into a small ponytail that was watching the District Four presentation with her small mouth open wide in awe.

"Maybe," Sieghart was saying. "Sieghart is a common surname?"

Elesis nodded. "Yeah. Let's settle with that."

"But just in case," Sieghart took a seat next to Elesis. "What's your family like?"

_~Dangerous Times~_

A hush fell over the crowd as the elven chariot came into view, the magnificent scarlet wings of harpies shining in the sun as they took flight. Crimson feathers fluttered down as the bird-like monsters took to a steady flight just above the pavement, slightly lifting the upper part of the chariot into the air.

Lire slid back and grasped the vine entwined handle to keep from falling off, nearly knocking Ryan off the open back of the open chariot.

"Sorry!" She exclaimed, face white with both excitement and fear.

Ryan only slightly dipped his head in response, staring intensely at the harpies. They were, in a strange, unexplainable way, breathtakingly beautiful, with dark red wings bordered with lines of peach, with their almost human faces and deep purple talons, outstretched and deadly with golden nails. All of the harpies were wearing something alike a dancer's guise—floating fabrics and large jewels, golden bracelets and anklets. They moved mechanically, on beat, every flap of their wings in sync with each other, without even making a single sound.

When the crowd recovered from their initial shock of seeing harpies instead of horses, they began to marvel at the simple but beautiful nature all elves possessed. Lire and Ryan were hardly decorated save for the occasional brush of makeup here and the trace of gel there, but there was just something about the way Lire's fair skin seemed to be glowing in the midday sun, or Ryan's eyes, an emerald green shade unseen in humans, that reflected the world around him in clear pools of neverending green.

Lire was dressed simply, her long blonde hair plaited to fall back in a high, long braid down her back. She had a light, minty green shade of armor—breastplates lined with traces of gold. The metal parted ways to expose most of her stomach, faint lines tracing down her sides to point off at her hips, tucked under a slim golden belt centered around a huge emerald jewel. Underneath the belt she wore a tight green miniskirt, one that hugged her legs until it cut off. Her legs were bare until her boots—comfortable green fabric with careful golden designs. Just above her miniskirt started another 'skirt' of sorts—made from the same minty green metal her upper armor was, only tinted slightly darker. This dress separated into segments, bumping against the back of her knees. White satin armbands covered her forearms, cutting off with stylish green bands right at her wrists. She carried a quiver of arrows on her back, a soft case made from animal hide. Her actual bow was beautiful, first-class wood painted green and gold. It split into fours, the man point a golden point with a small emerald.

It was a Composite bow, a bow used by Novas in ancient times. Lire knew all about these bows, having read many books on them and dreamed of using one as a young elf. It was one of the few things Lire allowed herself to properly and completely get childishly crazy about. She could recite everything about the bow—from its unique shape giving higher draw-weight to the horn, wood and sinew laminated to make it. She stared at the impossibly perfect bow in her hands, clashing against the iron handlebars and making a rough, scratching sound. She grabbed onto Ryan's wrist—the male gave her a surprised look but didn't object—and used his weight to stay onboard as she slid the bow into her quiver using her free hand. Reminding herself to thank the male elf later, she found her gaze wandering over to Ryan.

The male elf looked good, she'd admit. His orange hair was messy atop his head, pushed aside by the gold and green headdress he wore, resting just above his eyes. Extensions trailed their way down his back to separate into two thin ponytails at either side. His wide emerald eyes matched the colour of his armor, an green habergeon lined with orange that ended just above his finely trained abs. Underneath that, he had a short black halter that helped avoid bruising from his hard metal armor. His shoulder guards went up to bump gently against his long ears, coloured red by the excitement, quite a contrast to the green shoulder guards. His gloves were in many different colours, a braided design entwining the wrist. Designs of similar pattern were in belt he wore, clasping together the different fabrics of his lower piece. A green cape opened over his white pants, tucked into black boots designed with matching shades of orange, green, and yellow. His weapon, twin swords that doubled as both blades and a pike—attachable at the ends—were lined with antique designs of green and orange, circulating down from the middle of the steel down to the leather-wrapped handles. He was the strong, fighting elf, clothed in the garb of Magnus Dan, a long ago Vanquisher hero, while she represented the shining beauty of a new day, as the Nova.

The harpies stopped where Selena waited, a very satisfied smile on her face.

"How was it?" the angel asked as they got off, Ryan even daring to give one of the harpies a small pat in thanks.

"Fun," Ryan replied while Lire drew out her composite bow, running her long fingers over the structure.

"I thank the spirits above one of us didn't fly off the open back of the chariot," the female elf said, smiling slightly.

"Oh, right," Selena looked genuinely concerned. "I didn't tell you about that, did I? The chariots have to be open backed so it's easier for the harpies to lift and balance it. Plus, chariots were originally open in the back anyways."

"Well, that's over now," Ryan said rather brightly, wanting to stop the subject.

Selena nodded in response to the elf's positive outlook, and then beckoned them to walk. "Come. You'll want to meet the other tributes."

They followed eagerly, faces flushed from the energy of nearly flying.

Selena stopped at the sight of a woman with purple locks gently cascading over her tanned skin.

"Sharrif," the angel greeted, in a chilly tone unlike the normally cheerful, teasing mentor.

"Selena," the woman mimicked her tone, smirking. "Oh, and your little elves."

Selena stepped back, allowing Sharrif a clear view of Lire and Ryan.

"I-I'm Lire," Lire stuttered, unsure what to do. She didn't like the look of this woman.

"Pleasure," There was something about Sharrif's voice that warned people not to trust her; she seemed pleased in the way a cat might be upon sighting a plump mouse. "I'm Kamilah Sharrifakh Herliohapht."

Lire blinked. "Nice to meet you…um…Kam…" she trailed off, unable to pronounce the complicated name the female had said in a rush.

Sharrif laughed, a few delicate notes aimed _at _her, not _with _her. "You can call me Sharrif, darling."

"…Right."

Looking sour, Lire stepped back and turned to Ryan.

"And who are you?" Sharrif drawled, her golden chains clicking as she turned her head to look at Ryan.

"Ryan," Ryan completely missed the memo and extended his hand, smiling.

Sharrif took his hand in her small one, and smiled back prettily as she tightened her grip and bones cracked.

Lire surged forwards as Ryan drew back.

"What's wrong with you?" She demanded. "Is this funny to you?"

Sharrif only chucked. "Calm down. I did nothing." She dropped Ryan's hand—which he quickly snatched back—and wandered away, waving.

Lire huffed, glaring after the female's shape, and turned to Ryan with worried eyes. "You alright?"

He winced. "Yeah." He cracked a smile. "She didn't break anything."

"Good," Lire smiled. "I don't know what's wrong with her, but let's steer clear from her," her fair eyebrows narrowed together. "There's something not right about that woman."

"Fully in agreement, captain." Ryan looked around for Selena as Lire giggled slightly.

They found their angel-winged mentor chatting with a man with spiky white hair.

"Ryan, Lire," Selena greeted. "How did talking with Sharrif go?" She shared a knowing looking with the man.

"She nearly broke my hand," Ryan stated, holding up his sore hand.

Selena's ruby lips pursed together, and the angel was quiet.

The air filled with awkward silence, until the white haired male broke with a dazzling smile.

"Hey, I haven't introduced myself yet," he grinned and thrust his hand out. "Brendan Uezuki, provided your hand is well enough to shake."

Ryan shook his head as Lire smiled. "I'm Lire," she said, taking Brendan's hand in a short handshake.

"I don't think so," Ryan smiled sheepishly as Brendan turned to him. "Rather not risk it. I'm Ryan, by the way."

Brendan dropped his hand. "Alright. Have you met any of the other tributes yet?"

Lire shook her head. "No, not yet."

"Well," Brendan pointed to the group of tribtues huddled in the corner, away from the mentors, who had separated everywhere, being more used to the place. "Go on. Make some friends."

With doubtful faces, Lire and Ryan headed in the direction Brendan had directed them and was greeted by a short, purple haired mage.

"Hi," she smiled when they reached her.

"Hello," Lire greeted back, formally and seriously. "I'm Lire, from District Four."

"Oh, you were the ones riding the harpies!" the girl exclaimed. "That looked exciting. How was it? I'm Arme, District Two."

"It was fine," Lire smiled. "Scary, but really fun!"

Arme stared at Ryan, was if waiting for something, and Ryan stared back, until he realized he hadn't introduced himself yet.

"O-oh! Right. Sorry about that." He shook hands with the mage. "I'm Ryan, District Four as well."

Arme smiled. "Nice to meet you, Ryan," she said politely. "How were the harpies? You were at the back, right?"

"Right!" He confirmed. "They were, as Lire said, fine, somewhat. Lire nearly knocked me off—"

"That was an accident!" Lire protested, flushing red.

Arme laughed at the elves' antics. "Well, I can only say from the audiences' point of view, but they looked pretty fun! You guys were almost flying!"

"Well, you had the clouds!" Lire countered. "They looked so magical, like a chariot from heaven descending…" she sighed.

"Those were only a cheap little trick," Arme blushed. "But thank you all the same."

"Cheap? They looked so real!" Lire looked flabbergasted.

"They really weren't anything," Arme laughed.

"Nothing? They were something!" Lire countered.

Ryan smiled, feeling a little out of place at the girls' quick chatter. They were becoming good friends, while he was just there, listening and intruding on their conversation.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned to find a white haired male in blue clothing, a long sword at his side.

"Hey," the male greeted.

"Hey," Ryan greeted back, unsure what to do.

"You the newest tribute?"

"Yeah. I'm Ryan."

"Lass."

"Lass? As in—"

He suddenly found the sharp, narrow blade of Lass's sword against his neck, the male behind him.

"Don't start," Lass growled.

Ryan gulped. "'Kay."

There was a sliding sound, and Lass reappeared in front of him, sheathing his Nodachi as quickly as it had been drawn out, then leaned back as if nothing had happened.

"So, Ryan," Lass casually started talking again. "You stong?"

Ryan blinked. "I suppose? Why?" He questioned, suddenly suspicious.

The striker's face brightened. "Brilliant. We need someone to lift Sieghart; he cracked his back showing off to Elesis. She doesn't want anywhere near him, Kieran is pretending to be deaf, and Ronan's still attempting to court Elesis. Plus, those two are in their own little world," Lass gestured to Lire and Arme. "I'd do it myself but I don't do heavy lifting. Will you?"

Without knowing what he was getting into, Ryan nodded. How hard could it be? It was just lifting a guy and helping some tributes out. He sincerely hoped that the tribute that was deaf would have good luck in the Games, though. "Sure."

Lass smiled, a quick little uplifting of the lips. "Great. Was hoping you'd say yes, or I'd have to ask Saika or something. Well, c'mon."

Ryan followed the male, quickening his pace to follow the thief's naturally quick footsteps.

Upon arrival, he rushed through meeting all of the other tributes—a red haired female named Elesis, an indigo knight with hair the same colour as the scarf Arme wore on her neck, a hooded male by the name of Kieran—who, by the way, wasn't actually deaf—and another male with purple streaks in his jet black hair, who Lass introduced as Zeke Sieghart as said person was busy groaning in pain.

"How did he do this?" Ryan asked as he hoisted Sieghart up, letting the taller male lean on his shoulders.

Elesis snorted. "He was trying to show me he could lift his Soluna with one finger."

"I still did it, Red," Sieghart chucked, grimacing slightly.

"And you nearly broke your back in the process," Elesis reminded.

Ryan seated Siegahrt down on a bench nearby, straightening up. The Prime Knight groaned, rubbing his back.

"I think I need to go see a doctor."

"You better go now, then. Training begins tomorrow," Lass spoke from his spot leaning against the wall.

"Right," Sieghart sighed. "Well, kids," turning an eye on the tributes, he held his arms out. "Anyone going to help me?"

No one responded, all of them preferring to laugh at the male's misery.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Their chariot drew out, a delicate blue lined with traces of white on one side—the side that Mari occupied. Her twirling Soul Takers flew all over the place, zipping past the audience so close they could reach out and grab the sharp, pearly blades, then away to nip at Mari's clothes and hair, dancing forwards to tease her horse—a big, elegant, pure white Andalusian horse, with glossy fur and a full mane, to which was braided and entwined with feathers, the same delicate white ones in Mari's hair.

And she stood in the middle of it all—Mari Ming Onette, completely made-over. Her long hair was cut into one fine sheet, gathered atop her head in a long, whisking ponytail that trailed down, the tips dyed colours of light blue and white. Her glasses were gone, and, after much struggling, contacts were put in. Her small mouth was wide, smiling, shining lip gloss making them look soft and full. Her eyes shone in the attention she was receiving—her blue one matching the colours of the clear sky above, her red one luminous in a deep-set pure scarlet.

Her blue and black cloak, trimmed with gold lining, and bordered with baroque white laced designs fluttered gentle in the wind stirred by her Soul Takers, only for her cloak so it didn't mess up her hair.

The cloak clipped together underneath her chin with a sapphire pendant, revealing skin before the white cloth of her corset covered just barely above her breasts. Belts were pulled tightly in at her waist, covering the black fabric. The stylish had insisted belts made her look so much better and that all the other tributes were wearing them—that was certainly true, but she couldn't help but think that the handsome man from Three was overdoing with, with belts almost on every trace of clothing. However, she had managed to talk her beauty team into placing only a couple of belts—two at her waist, another on her cloak—with the help of Zero, who glared rather menacingly.

On her arms she had white linen sleeves, traces of cloth coloured gold sewn into the fabric. The sleeves followed a leaflike pattern, falling loosely until they tipped off halfway at her hands, clothed in black silk gloves.

For bottoms she wore a black miniskirt, frilly underneath with layers of lace. As soon as her skirt ended her boots were there; thigh-high white boots with a long strip of black down the middle, accompanied with two strips of gentle blue. Small brown buckles fashioned the boots into place, and small heels made her stand taller and straighten her figure. She waved to the crowd as they passed, smiling and blowing kisses here and there as exotic Serdin citizens screamed with joy.

On his side of the chariot, Zero was getting more of a quiet response. Though his beauty team had attempted to make him more cool and lax in appearance, the fact that no one could see his eyes and Zero's upright stance made the audience watch with quiet wonderings as his pony—a small but able dapple grey—hurried to catch up with Mari's Andalusian's naturally big strides.

He was dressed in clothing he would normally rather be seen dead than wearing. Cool neon highlighted parts of his otherwise grey and black outfit, and he wore bright yellow shades. A small hooded jacket of neon lime green covered his back, sleeveless to allow light grey separated sleeves that were attached to his black gloves. The ends of narrow black belts with the same lime green coloured buckles flew from his waist, where he had Grandark strapped in and one hand clutched tightly around its hilt. He wore a neon belt clasped with an "X" symbol and grey pants, which were tucked into black boots with neon fastenings. Along with Gran, they had called him an Advance, whatever that referred to.

Though he supposed the attention he got wasn't all that bad. Some cheered for him, but most stayed silent, just watching the strange male from District Five. Though it was the good kind of silence, supposedly shocked yearning, but he somewhat wished they would be more visual. He didn't like being the only one out of the tributes to have barely twenty people clapping.

The chariot drew to a stop and he hopped out of the sides, easily carrying Grandark over the tall chariot walls without the sword scratching.

Acho ran up to them as Mari fluttered out with the help of her Soul Takers, face bright and flushed.

"That was awesome!" the male exclaimed, completely bypassing Zero as he rushed to Mari. "They loved you!"

The blue haired girl blushed. "Not really," she spoke softly, her mouth a permanent smile. "It was the clothing."

"You looked wonderful," Acho assured her. "Let's go and meet the others!"

Zero stopped the eager male mentor by placing Grandark right in front of Acho's face. "Shouldn't you be finding sponsors?"

"I did that while you guys were riding," Acho reported in a small voice.

Zero sighed and uprooted his sword, granting passage. Acho flinched as the male began to walk towards the mentors and tributes. Zero didn't want to continuously bully his mentor like this, but from the looks of the scrawny male, he wasn't much and wouldn't assist them in winning. Mari might want to fall behind, to chat and make friends, but he wanted to get home. To go home to check on Oz, to stay home with Oz and let no one else into their sanctum.

The first person they met were two females, one elf with shining strands of golden hair, and the other a short purple mage carrying a staff taller than she was.

"Hello," they greeted as Zero approached them.

The demon stared at them, the gears in his brain working. Finally, after moments of silence, he just nodded and walked on. Arme and Lire stared after him, but their attention was changed to Acho and Mari soon enough.

He walked on with no real purpose, until he felt fast footsteps slightly behind him. Turning, he found a wheezing Acho running to catch up.

"D-Don't," the male panted. "Walk so…fast…"

"Sorry?" With no real response, Zero turned and began walking faster than usual, wanting to be alone with his thoughts and leaving a wailing mentor behind.

When at last he found a bench a little distance from all of them and sat down, sudden commotion raised him from thoughts, and he turned to look at what the Serdin crowd was shouting themselves silly for.

There, on a pink-black chariot drawn by black steeds, with dark magenta flames churning under the horses' hooves and the wheels, stood a demon wearing so very little, exposing his chest in its full glory. A demon with slick, large black horns and hair the colour of dark magenta, the exact same shade as the scarf Zero wore on his neck.

Surging forwards to be the first one to get a clear look at the tributes when the chariot finished, possibilities swarm through Zero's mind. It had to be a coincidence. It just had to be.

But, as the female demon came into view, with his trademark olive green colour flying clear in the wind, Zero's heart sank deep, even if he wasn't supposed to have one in the first place.

He was right.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Ley knew they had the crowd as soon as Dio came into view. Beforehand, they had agreed on him going first to prepare the crowd, then having the appearance of Ley make them explode.

So far, their plan had worked. The horses came first, large black steeds harnessed to the chariots with silver iron. The chariot rolled after with its polished black and iron design, the wheels set aflame with Ley's magenta flames. It reminded her of the cloud trick the District Two girl had done, only this was more powerful, more deadly, more deserving of the district of demons.

And Dio, standing strong at the front, came into view.

The audience, who had been holding their breath for the big reveal, exploded into screams and cheers as Dio broke his stance and glanced around the crowd with his glowing scarlet eyes.

His rake hand glowed a magnificent blue, larger than life with its black tips and blue shard embedded into the strange material. His wings flapped out behind him, causing occasional strong gusts of wind that blasted Ley in the face—which, the female demon assumed, was intentional. His hair blew around wildly with each flap, the floatly blue fire his wings extended to become swirled around in lucid patterns, and Dio's long demon tail—also made from the strange blue magic—whisked around, a sure sign that the demon was enjoying himself, showing off to millions of screaming citizens. His large black horns shimmered in the sun, freshly polished and now decorated with glowing blue stones, laced into the horn and curling atop his head.

He was dressed in black fabric and iron accessories, with a shirt that left most of his chest bare open. Iron covered his pants, belt, and shoes, chains flying in the wind. He also had a cape, black leather that sat mounted on his black and separated into two thin, narrow strands lined with more iron. They clinked against the back of Dio's shoes, chains against iron.

And after Dio came Ley, who levitated into the air with a smug look on her face. Some of her hair was twisted into a bun atop her head, tied by a fancy black band with swirls that blended into her silky, light pink hair. More hair flowed down to reach her hips, parted and combed elegantly to tips.

She wore a wrap of sorts—deep purple satin that was wrapped around her upper body and enough to cover what was needed at the bottom. Her legs were left bare, with a small knee bracelet of sorts made from curved gold on her left leg. Her shoes were antique, to say the least, with confusing designs of gold, purple, white and black, ornamented with small ruby stones, they pinched her feet as she walked—which was why she had chosen to float. Either way, floating made her appear more elegant and royal than all the other tributes—which was true, she _was_—so it was a double win.

Their chariot drew to a stop and Ley blew a few last kisses before turning to the other tributes. Still floating, she patted her white feather boa and stared, bored, at the groups, who were watching her and Dio with open mouths.

Lucifer greeted them. "Good job with the flames."

Ley smirked. "Thanks." It seemed to her everyone else was too flabbergasted to say anything.

She turned around to find Dio so they could walk around arm in arm, rubbing their success into the tributes' faces, but found that the male was occupied, talking to another male with grey hair tied into a short ponytail.

Ley froze at the magenta coloured scarf around the male's neck. That was the colour of her scarf that she had given to Dio! And the male's sword was an olive green colour, the same shade as the scarf Dio originally had, the one she wore now.

There seemed to be some conflict. The grey haired male stared at Dio's magenta scarf, confused, and told Dio something. Dio responded, looking annoyed, and moments later the two broke apart and the magenta demon stomped over to Ley.

"What was that about?" She questioned.

Dio shook his head. "Guy thinks there's been a mistake with my scarf."

"Why's that?"

"Dunno. Kept muttering about colours and the Games. Then his sword told him to shut it and I got out of there."

"His sword talked?"

"Yeah."

"…" Ley was silent, floating alongside Dio. "Did you tell him we switched?"

"No," Dio looked at her. "Why does it matter? I don't want everyone sticking their head up what I do."

"Nothing, nothing," Ley floated away from the demon, thinking about Dio's strange conversation with the grey haired male. She wandered over to a group of female tributes, meaning to start conversation, but stopped when she heard Dio's voice, loud and annoyed.

"What now?"

The male was being questioned by Lucifer, the short boy narrowing his eyes at Dio's scarf.

"Where did you get that?" He demanded.

"You gave them out," Dio scoffed.

"No I didn't. The one I gave you was olive green."

"Why are you keeping tabs on this? Are all the mentors giving out mismatched scarves to tally us up or something?"

"Just answer me. Where's the green scarf?"

"Here," Ley unwound the green scarf from her neck quickly and gave it to Lucifer. "Now bug off."

Dio glared at her. "Keep out of this."

"What," Ley stated, unamused. "I can't help out my fellow tribute and childhood friend?"

"No you can't."

"Fine then," Ley's eyes narrowed into slits. "I won't."

And she snatched the magenta scarf off Dio's neck, nearly choking the demon who was taken by surprise. Rushing away, she fled to the group of females while tying the scarf around her neck, introducing herself as the princess of the Crimson River tribe and Dio as a jerk tyrant leader.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Amy came out first, on the pink chariot scattered with rose petals. She smiled and blew out kisses to everyone, her pink hair bouncing around her shoulders as she danced to the requests of the cheering crowd.

This was what she loved, most of all. Gathering attention and cheers, having people watch her every move and call out her name. It made her cheeks flush bright with delight, eyes sparkling in the heat of the cheers. She wasn't shy, no, she was the polar opposite. She lived for attention. Without attention, she was a nobody, not worthy to go on and live in these times, ordinarily. She had to be something, or it wasn't worth it.

Her mini crown bobbed atop her head and her pink goggles shimmered in the light. Golden epaulettes with pink stars were set on top of her velvet, light purple jacket, and her white and pink dress underneath was frilly, puffy in many layers and decorated with sashes and stars. The beauty team had made her into a superstar, a Scarlet, with long, curly pink hair and full red lips and white gloved hands. She jumped around the chariot and waved to the screaming audience as the crowd screamed harder than ever as hands reached out and roses were thrown.

Behind her, Jin stood, firmly planted on the ground and watching Amy with soft eyes. The female dancer was so beautiful, so full of life and cheerful energy. She enjoyed the little things and always kept a positive outlook on life, which was what had drawn Jin into loving her despite the short amount of time they had even known each other, and the even shorter time they had left to enjoy spending time with each other. He wanted to make every moment, every touch count, every word spoken to last as happy memories once the Games started.

Amy laughed, and, after noticing the fighter just standing there, took his hand in hers, brown eyes sparkling with happiness and good cheer in the spotlight of the crowd.

They held their hands up, fingers entwined with each other's, as the crowd went crazy and shouted themselves hoarse.

Jin and Amy stood there, Amy in her pink themed Scarlet outfit, and Jin in his red themed Rama outfit, complete with a golden jacket that clipped together military-styled, with dashes of red and black. His red and black pants had beaded red tassels, and antique fighter designs covered the back of his jacket, golden silk spinning.

Jin caught a nearby rose that flew by, and, taking Amy's delicate hand in his and pressing a soft kiss onto it, he smiled at the pinkette's blush and offered the rose.

"For my lady," he whispered.

Amy smiled, blushing redder than ever, taking the rose. Then, in front of millions of Serdin citizens, all the mentors and tributes, as well as the Districts watching and her worried parents, she took Jin's face between her hands and, before the male could react, kissed him full of the lips, then and there. If they were going to be in a relationship, they had to move forward as fast as possible, to enjoy the limited time they had left. Plus, none of them liked loitering, anyways.

The air positively exploded into cheers and catcalls, and, after a moment's hesitation to realize what was happening, Jin kissed back, wrapping his arms around Amy's waist as her arms sneaked behind his neck and into his hair.

They broke the kiss after a few good, solid moments, gasping for air.

"What are you doing?" Jin asked, a stupid smile etched onto his face.

"Not thinking," Amy breathed, leaning in for another kiss.

Jin happily complied.

_~Dangerous Times~_

They came out in two separate carriages, as Theo and Shera had requested. Eshe couldn't really blame the couple, they were good friends and wanted to spend time together rather than with with Rufus and Eshe's constant bickering.

But that also meant she was stuck with Rufus, in the bland chariot of District Eight.

Rufus was dressed in a white and red vest with gold buttons, and magenta tailcoat. A brown belt with a shining golden buckle held up red and white pants, the ends fawning open like foghorns. His hair was bleached to blonde, curly locks sprawling everywhere as he leaned against the chariot sides, ignoring the cheers and calls from the audience.

Eshe herself was standing as far as possible from Rufus, wearing a brown fur coat and leather pants, a small pouch with needed supplies resting at her hip.

The two simply stood like wooden dolls, staring blankly at a crowd that was becoming bored, expecting more after Jin and Amy's passionate display.

They passed quickly, the spotted horses pulling the small chariot, and dropped them off at the tribute gathering. Lucas greeted them with a slightly forced smile and compliments, then moved to talking with a purple-grey haired female and brown haired male.

Theo and Shera came soon after, in a red draped chariot led by chestnut horses, holding each other tightly, the exact opposite of Rufus and Eshe's display. Theo's hair was gelled to spiky peaks, dressed in a fine red jacket with Kevlar padding. Shera was memorable with her long blue haired twisted into a ponytail that flowed elegantly over her shoulders. She was dressed in pure whites, with a delicate cloak like the snowdrops of first winter and a knitted sweater with long, tulip-like sleeves. They generated somewhat more applause than the pervious, though the audience still didn't seem fully pleased.

"They don't like us, do they?" Shera whispered, staring up at Theo, who's gaze was fixed ahead.

"Don't say that," the male replied. "They're just…" he trailed off. "I suppose they're surprised, seeing four tributes."

Shera dipped her head. "Yeah," she agreed. "That must be it."

They stayed silent until the chariot drew to a stop, where Lucas walked over accompanied by two others.

"Four tributes?" A female with grey-purple hair and golden chains wrapped around her neck asked. "You've got yourself busy, Lucas."

Before Lucas could reply, they were interrupted by loud voices from the tribute gathering.

"Jin! Oh my God, what did you do?" A high pitched squeal sounded, followed by horrified gasps, then Eshe's sharp tone.

"Rufus!"

Theo and Shera rushed over, the mentors following closely behind.

Rufus held Jin, the flame haired male, in a choke against the wall, the bounty hunter tightening his grip on the Rama's neck as Jin struggled.

"Tell me, you sicko," Rufus growled. "Why was it your idea to suggest more than two tributes? Is this fun to you? Are we only puppets?"

"Jin!" A pink haired girl was struggling, held back by a purple haired female whose staff lay on the group next to her, and a blonde haired elf with quivers on her back.

"Don't," the elf cried. "You'll only get yourself hurt!"

"I can't stand here and watch him die!" the pinkette argued.

In response, the elf only gritted her teeth and held the Scarlet tighter.

"Guys," an indigo haired male pleaded. "Let's try to be rational—"

Too quickly, Rufus pulled something out and threw it in the male's face, a loud boom sending the Abyss Knight sprawling backwards, knocking into a guy wearing a cloak and sending them both into the path of the oncoming chariot.

"What the—" the girl from District Nine, dressed in a fighter's outfit with creamy white hair, jumped forward and pulled the reins, sending the chariot smashing into the walls. The two males that had been knocked onto the pavement untangled themselves from each other and sat up groggily, while the two newest tributes groaned as they climbed out of the rubble of whining horses and broken chariot.

"Warning flare," Rufus stated calmly.

Everyone stared at him, eyes wide.

"Now," the bounty hunter turned to Jin, who was turning blue. "Tell me why you did _that."_

Elesis started to step forward. "He didn't—"

Mari pulled her back. "Don't," she stated calmly. "Let me try to negotiate."

The Geas walked forwards, slowly. "Let go of him," she demanded in a soft but commanding tone. "He didn't do anything. We can talk this over."

Rufus clicked his guns and turned on her, and fired.

Arme screamed, hysterical, as Lire pulled her and Amy back to the furthest wall and waited.

Rufus looked surprised when he came face to face with Grandark's large blade, Zero having slid in front of Mari just in time, a split second before the bounty hunter released fire.

"Have you lost your mind?" Zero hissed at the cowering Mari. "If he blasted Ronan into Kieran, he's more than happy to shoot your brains out. Now. Go!"

Mari's eyes widened and she rocket blasted off, coming down near Ryan, who stood with his blades drawn by Sieghart.

Zero was alone with Rufus, the Advancer's golden glasses into the Arbiter's cold red eyes.

"I don't want trouble. Just answer—" he was interrupted by a dark pulse of magical energy blasted his wrist, making him release Jin, who fell onto the ground, coughing. Ley took this moment to daringly teleport near the male, dragging him with her as she teleported again and dumped the Rama near a sobbing Amy.

Clutching his wrist, Rufus turned to find Dio, a smug smile on this face and rake hand outstretched.

"I'm all for starting the Chase Games early," the male demon grinned manically.

Ley floated close by, sipping a cup of tea she'd gotten from one of the attendants with her legs crossed, watching the scene as she ran her long, gold-infused fingernails down Garouille's leather back, bright green eyes luminous.

Rufus glared, surging forwards at the same time Dio took flight.

However, before they could clash, a steel bladed silver nodachi flashed, Lass cutting between the two as quickly and quietly as the shadows.

"Now is not the time," the silver haired thief said calmly, muscles straining under the pressure of holding the two apart.

Dio and Rufus pressed against Lass's nodachi for a while longer, but, just as the narrow blade cracked slightly, the two fell back, glaring.

"Fine," Rufus stated matter-of-factly. "We'll settle this when the time comes."

Dio nodded. "Provided you don't get picked off first."

Rufus scoffed. "Me? Never."

The bounty hunter glared at Lass, but was momentarily stopped by the uncanny resemblance the thief had to someone Rufus once knew.

"And you," he spat. "Keep out of our business."

The Striker only nodded. "As you wish. But you are doing nothing but making enemies this way," he chided.

Rufus ignored him and walked off, glaring at a weak Jin who lay in Amy's lap, the dancer stroking his hair and singing softly.

Meanwhile, Ronan and Kieran helped up Sion and Asin.

"Does that happen often?" the female adjusted her headband and laughed nervously.

Kieran shook his head. "I don't know. Some of us are…violent."

The female nodded.

"Hey, you alright?" Ronan asked Asin, who had his head in his hands, rocking back and forth.

"Jin Jin Jin Jin Jin JinJinJinJinJin_JinJinJinJinJinJinJinJin…" _the purple haired male muttered, pulling his crimson scarf tighter and tighter.

"Hey, stop that!" Ronan slapped Asin's hand away from from choking himself. "What's wrong with him?" the male knight stared at Kieran and Sion, begging for some help.

"Him? Oh, he's not right in the head," Sion tapped her forehead. "I'm Sion."

Ronan was silent, but his attention was soon distracted by Asin, who was trying to bang his head against the pavement.

"I said, don't do that!"

"Sounds like we'll have ourselves a lovely Chase Games," Kieran noted. "I'm Kieran."

_~Dangerous Times~_

As soon as Lime gets off the chariot with Raphel—both dressed in similar Holy Knight outfits of green, blue, and trademark iron—the scene that greets them is utter chaos.

The tributes are all separated, with the demons off in a corner, bickering, a bunch of girls whispering quietly, a flame haired male groaning in a pink haired female's lap, the pinkette shooting death glares at a man who leaned against the wall, with guns on his belt and curly blonde hair. Four others stood near the rubble of District Nine's fallen chariot, one of them looking as though he was trying to cause self-harm, and a distressed man with indigo hair attempting to stop him.

Wondering what to do, Lime stood closer to Raphel, who also looked equally as confused and unwilling to join any of the 'groups' the tributes had separated into.

"Lime! Raphel!"

Lime turned and had never been so glad to see their mentors rushing forward, Aceline with her plans and Aalis with his guitar. Seeing the bandaged, golden-eyed boy, Lime turned to Raphel.

"Aalis doesn't talk much, does he?"

Raphel seemed distracted. "What? Oh, I suppose he finds it easier to express himself through deadly music spells?"

"Was that a joke?"

"Only perhaps."

Lime let the subject drop there, as Aceline and Aalis caught up to them.

"Well done," the female congratulated upon reaching them.

Lime smiled. "Thanks."

"Aalis," Aceline pointed with her pen towards the Serdin nobles. "Will you go and secure some sponsors?"

"…" the boy paused, staring at the nobles. "Alright, I'll try…" he muttered, hesitantly.

Aceline sighed. "On second thought, let me go do it. They probably need some convincing."

"And you think I'm not capable?" the boy's golden eyes flashed momentarily, his voice growing louder than his normal obedient, soft tone.

Aceline stared. "I never said that," she said carefully. "You can go on ahead if you want. I just thought you'd be more willing to stay behind and get to know Raphel and Lime. But it's up to you. I can do anything," she spoke in silkily tones with practised ease.

The boy seemed to calm down, voice reverting back to its normal shy tone. "Anything is fine, sister," he blinked and smiled shyly. "I can do anything as well."

"Then we'll go with the original plan," Aceline immediately said, with her strict manner and upright poise. "Aalis, pressure the nobles. Make sure they understand sponsoring Lime and Raphel is important and worthy. I'll take them to meet the others."

Aalis nodded and strummed a few notes on his guitar, the music popping into the air and exploding into small sparks as the boy turned and headed away.

Lime turned to Aceline. "What was that?"

The mentor sighed. "Aalis gets like that sometimes. All of us have quirks, leftover habits from the Games that'll stick with us until we die. Remember that, you two. Even if you win, you can't escape the Games."

The mentor seemed lost in her own thoughts for a while, and Lime stared at her curiously. Of course, she knew that no one came from the Games perfectly sane, but she never thought it'd be so strange, as if the mentors were completely aware that they weren't normal and let that be, like they'd given up trying to develop themselves into something better.

Aceline chuckled. "We're all wiser than you think, you know? Serdin likes to place us as heartless Victors that love each and every Game and spoils themselves on the liquor and men—or in men's case, women—Serdin has to offer, and we let them do that," her eyes darkened. "And perhaps some of us," her eyes flickered over to a certain few. "Do enjoy ourselves, but most of us prefer to stand in the shadows, given up on life and just letting Serdin run us around like puppets in a grand show. As tributes, you're the life and heart of the Chase Games. As a Victor, you're everything. Fame, money, and suitors come to you, all willing. But as mentors, you're nothing but the sideshow attraction in chains. In the end, all the money in the world can't shield you from your own emotions."

Lime and Raphel stared at her, but Aceline was muttering her own things now.

Lime's heart sank. Even being a mentor wasn't easy. It seemed that, no matter what, she couldn't escape the Games. Once her name was drawn, it was drawn. So why was she even trying?

Aceline herded them towards the group of gigging females and left them there, wandering to her own group of mentors.

Lime felt like a child that had just been dumped at a complete group of strangers by a parent that had promised to stay by their side.

"Hi," she greeted casually. "I'm Lime."

The short female in mage's garb was the first to recover from staring. "I'm Arme," she gave a small smile. "That's a pretty name you have, Lime."

Feeling more at ease, Lime smiled back. "No, it's plain and simple. I like yours."

Arme giggled as a blonde elf came forward. "I'm Lire," the elf's braid, weaved with green ribbon, fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward. "Nice to meet you."

Lime smiled. "Lime."

"I'm Mari," a blue haired girl introduced herself, and Lime was taken aback by the girl's strange red and blue eyes. Blades whirled at Mari's hands and she looked at them carefully.

"Lime," she said for the third time. Then, remembering the male slightly behind her, she stepped back to place Raphel in the spotlight. "This is Raphel."

"Hi," the girls chorused.

"Hello," he greeted politely. "Lovely to meet you."

Mari nodded. "That's Amy," she said, pointing to the pink haired girl that was helping the red haired male sit up. "She's tending to Jin."

"What happened?" Lime questioned. "All we saw was District Nine's chariot crashing into the wall and a loud noise."

Lire sighed. "Well, Rufus—"

"That's the brown haired guy with guns over there," Arme interrupted.

"Arme," Lire warned.

"Sorry, Lire, but I thought they needed to know."

"I was getting to that part," Lime protested. "Anyways, Rufus attacked Jin for some reason. Eshe—that brown haired female over there—explained its because Rufus thinks Jin is the one that requested that District Eight have four tributes this year. We still don't know who actually did it, though Jin swears on his life and honor that it isn't him."

"We think it's Dio, though," Arme whispered, pointing to a magenta haired demon with a strange accessory on his arm. "He wanted to start the Games early and, you know, demons like fighting. The more, the better."

"So you should watch yourself," Lire concluded. "Some of the tributes and even the mentors aren't friendly."

Lime and Raphel nodded. They'd guessed that much already.

"But," Arme smiled. "You can trust us! We're completely friendly."

Lime hesitated. "Doesn't the Chase Games bother you, though?"

Arme's smile wavered, and she looked down. Lire shot Lime a glance, and the Holy Knight was confused. It was just a question!

Mari slid up to her. "Arme is the tribute whose mother was killed," she whispered softly.

Lime gulped. Oh. Trust her and her big mouth to go and screw things up.

"You don't have to whisper," Arme said, softly. "I accepted she's dead and so am I." The purple haired mage looked up, tears brimming in her big purple eyes.

"Nicely done," Raphel nudged her and whispered.

"We're all dead."

Arme's words rose into the air and the mood grew silent, the ominous message lurking in the clouds.

_~Dangerous Times~_

As they rode out, Xion found himself standing in an upright, uncomfortable position, with a bow leaning against him and pressed against the left of the chariot to avoid stepping on Rin's clothes.

The goddess looked stunning, with her white hair pulled up into many buns, that later flowed down in one long ponytail that swept around the floor. Her clothing was simple, with a golden hairpiece and black top that opened to show her stomach, and a white wrapper that covered up what needed to be covered, leaving her begs bare apart from golden bands that wrapped around her thigh. Red sashes with mini ying-yan symbols were looped around her waist, the ends trailing down behind her. She also had millions of separate silk cloths trailing behind her, the long trail nearly dropping over the end of the chariot.

Though it made her absolutely beautiful and elegant looking, it also left Xion with very little space to stand. Clothed in robes of endless black, he stood like a sideshow attraction as Rin blew kisses and gathered roses. Their chariot drew to a stop and the tanned horses pawed the ground, snorting. Rin accepted the hand of Michael for help climbing down, her train following her as she looked around, and, before Xion even got off the chariot, headed over to a bunch of girls and uncomfortable looking guy and started chatting almost immediately.

Left alone, Michael said a few words—which Xion choose to ignore—and headed off, to the group of mentors gathering at the seats of the nobles.

Xion wandered over to the wall, keeping an eye on Rin in case anyone decided to attack her. They'd heard a tribute had been attacked by another tribute, and it was his self-proclaimed duty to make sure she was safe.

Leaning against the way, as always, he melted into the shadows soon enough.

~_Dangerous Times~_

When Jackie stepped off the chariot, he scanned the tributes and almost missed the guy.

He was leaning against a wall, face stoic, blending in with the shadows dancing across the wall. When Jackie sighted him, his heart dropped and a sense of dread began to take over.

The male wore clothes—a robe, really—of black, and, normally, that wouldn't matter at all.

This only mattered because the male's clothes were the exactly same colour of the scarf he was wearing.

Jackie didn't believe in these kinds of things, but he felt uneasy. He went up to the nearest tribute—a minty green haired female with big, sparkling blue eyes—and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes?" the girl was wearing a scarf that seemed rather filthy. Jackie grimaced; the fabric reminded him of himself, living in the alleyways of District Twelve with no access to a shower.

The scarf reminded him of himself. Oh, gods no.

"Where did you get that scarf?"

"Oh, this?" the female touched her neck. "My mentor. Why?"

But Jackie didn't answer, as he was already wandering away, the female calling after him. On his way to the mentors' gathering, the saw the olive green sword of one of the male tributes.

A cold sweat began to form as he broke into a run, bumping into Zeta.

"What's wrong?" the male looked confused at Jackie's panic.

Jackie shook his head, gasping for air. "No time to explain. Help me find Roseclere."

"What? Why—"

"Now!"

Zeta stared at him, wondering if Jackie had lost his mind. "Okay, okay. Just calm down!"

They located Roseclere standing at the back of the group of mentors, clicking away. Some of them seemed to actually understand her.

Jackie grabbed her shoulder, nearly throwing her against the wall by mistake.

_Click? _The white haired female looked confused.

"The scarves," he growled.

_Click, click? _Roseclere turned to Zeta, who looked just as confused as she.

"They show who's going to kill us!"

* * *

_Muwahaha, endings!_

_Oh my gosh, that was long. 44 pages in word! I write in a large font, but still. Hopefully you survived that painfully boring chapter!_

_Review Replies:_

_Siregomen: YESU IT'S AN UPDATE OUO  
Well, I did tell you some spoilers, but I changed a lot of things xD;;  
Awaeghidaslgas no its not pro you're pro I8  
No no ouo You will have longer review replies ouo_

_WinterBarrows: LOLyep! I swear, if you took out the word count of notes and review replies, DT would be a lot shorter xD;;  
Yep OUO I love making my characters get all confused and mixed up OUO  
Who says they're ever going to find out Elesis really did it? ;D I mean, she did try to tell them, but oh Mari.  
Ahaha, thank you /v/  
Perhaps, perhaps llD I really did want to do something special but that kinda failed OTL.  
Oh gosh I remember I used to love Utsuro's stuff! Honestly, I think a lot of people ship LassXArme because of he  
LOLOL. My favourite couple was RyanXLire when I first discovered GC because I wasn't a fangirl yet and I really liked Lire c: But yes, just like you, I stumbled upon ZeroXDio/DioXZero/SieghartXDio and my life was over. llD Though I actually started shipping ZeroXDio/DioXZero (I'm sorry I ship both okay sops) recently llD"" USUK and Francan was what got me started in yaoi. ChinaXJapan as well~ Oh, Hetalia fangirls.  
YES ZEROXDIO ALL THE WAY. And LOLYES you can't forget Sieg and Rufus as background noise. Maybe its just me, but I like both DioXZero and ZeroXDio xD;; Actually, give me two characters and I'll ship anything. ANYTHING. OUO  
I get what you mea For me, LassXLire is good, sure, but it doesn't really click, since, as you said, they're kinda similar. I prefer LassXArme, though He-Jay makes the best LassXLire fics eve  
I actually don't know lD" Plot twists just…come to me, I suppose? Actually, when I was younger, like, really really young, I used to think plot twists were bad things, for some reason llD" It was when everyone was exploding about the Darth Vader and "Luke I am your father" thing and talking about it being such a big plot twist and everything xD;;  
Ahh, thank you /v/ I'll try my very best to make my future stories exciting!  
Ohh, okay u vu Well, you can say it now, since I basically just spoiled it lD" Oh Jackie, you smart little psycho you.  
Ohh, I know! I love those mystery novels that do that, but if you do actually figure it out then you have to wait for the characters to figure it ou  
Ahhh, thank you so much /v/ I'm glad! DT seems rather boring to me, though llD" Thanks for reading!  
LOLOL. SiegXKieran, I ship it! Gogogoog, write Love Notes!  
Aww, you have a dog? You're so lucky! What kind of dog is it? u v u  
Sorry xD;; I love dogs and I have no pets, so I get super excited when someone says they have a dog. I really want a pet chinchilla, since my mom doesn't like dogs ; A ; Their dust baths are the cutest thing ever!  
Dangerous Times, a story about teens killing each other, inspires Love Notes, a beautiful story about young love and new opportunities. Okay. /slapped  
LOLYES. Worship the sexual tension.  
Alrighty~ /chuckles evilly while staring at Kieran  
Wait whut—there was a picture of RonanXLass? How did I miss that? O A O  
/accepts cherry pie/ /gives it to Lass/ /steps back/  
Oh gosh. Imagine Russia and Dio._

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: omfg your profile picture is Black Butler aweagonasldgs/fangirls  
Sorry about that lD"/is a fan  
Now for the actual reply~  
Ding ding ding! Though not exactly targets c: The origin of the scarves will be explained someday!  
Nope! At last count, seven. Someone's going to go on a **rampage **o u o  
/pats/ It'll be hard for all of us ; u; Apart from me, since I'm actually going to write it/laughs evilly and has tea/ /chokes/  
Ah, I see llD" Well, there are a lot of introductions.  
Haha, thank you! I'll try to update ASAP._

_hardcoreGSfan: Mmhmm!  
LOL. Well, um, before it gets too complicated, let's just wait and see llD"  
LOL. Well, he is impulsive after all ou o Maybe he will fall into his trap. Thanks for the idea!/slapped  
No, I'm just kidding xD;; I need Dio to go kill someone, so he can't suicide, unfortunately. :C  
LOLOLOL. I laughed so hard at that. Well, they'll figure it out someday.  
Maybe.  
OUO  
LOL. Figure of speech, though xD;;_

_I x3 Eggplants: Oh my gosh its youu~ /waves/ we haven't talked in a while~ u v u  
Ahaha, thank you so much! /v/ You're too kind!_

_SnowSummer: LOl. Yep~ cranky little boy. xD  
Ahaha, is she really? I just made her up when I played too much League of Legends. I absolutely adore Elise's design ouo _

_XxcrystalxX: Not quite c: Though it may seem that way xD_

_Snowskeeper: Oh no, it's fine! I hope your week is better no  
LOl. Well, your OC figured it out c:  
OUO Somewhat. Though, the dirt and blood doesn't exactly mean that llD" I'm sorry! All the colours are taken unless you wanted like hot pink or something llD" In the description it said he was dirty constantly so—llD"  
If you've read carefully, the black's meaning is crystal clear ouo  
And as for the green…Well, as I said, someone's gonna go on a rampage c:  
LOLOL. Control your face!_

_Lucienteal: (both reviews)  
/grabs you/ /strokes your face/ Thank you so much u v u  
Yeeeee. Draw me him OUO Draw him like dem French girls/SLAPPEDSDOHARDIMSORRYTITANIC REFRENCEJACKIWILLLOVEYOUALWA YS  
Aawlghisa;dgsad no you're the one stah  
LOLOL. That face._

_CrimsonFlarez: Ahahha, thank you! I will try my best to make them interesting!  
Oh no, it's fine~ I don't ignore any review I'm happy to have all my reviews and I make sure to answer each and every one of them!|  
Oh no, I'm sure your story is fin I'll check it out sometime!  
LOL, I see! Well, t hat's really amazing that you can write/speak English even though your country doesn' really admire yo The only language I can speak is English, and that's cause I live in Canada. xD;;  
I'm sure you do u v u  
Thank you! I will! /v/_

_Sirenys: Ahh how is China? u v u_


	35. Day 5

_Awelgkhas this chapter killed me to write. ;_; _

_Some notes before the chapter starts:_

_-For this chapter, instead of starting with Elesis and Ronan, we'll start with Jackie and Zeta and go in reverse. _

_-Rather boring chapter, I apologize /:_

_-I wrote the couple scenes after watching The Notebook (lovely movie, by the way, really sad ;A; ) so some of the scenes might be a little cheesy. xD;; _

_-LireXRyan. My best attempt at fluff. lD"_

_-Is unamused a word? My word insists it's not, but I'm pretty sure it is._

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Three: Day 5

"_They show who's going to kill us!"_

"What are you talking about?" a male with brown hair and a whisking tail looked at Jackie, arms crossed.

"The scarves," Jackie insisted.

The male looked unamused, stoic and firm. "The scarves are just scarves."

Zeta pulled Jackie back. "What are you even going on about?" the other tribute demanded. "How would the scarves show our future killers? That's impossible."

The male nodded. "Your friend is right. Unless we had time travel," Here he stopped and looked around at the others.

"Unless we had time travel," a female with beautiful white wings concluded. "that would not be possible." She smiled, through it was rather forced. "Now, isn't it time to head over to the training center?"

All the mentors separated, muttering small words here and there and gathering up their tributes. Roseclere walked up to them, frowning.

Looking around, Jackie found that the presentation hall was suddenly empty. The mentors certainly worked fast. Everyone else was already heading towards the training stadium. He took a breath. This was it. The Chase Games were starting.

Zeta sighed, still slightly confused. What rubbish was Jackie going on about? Selena was right; unless someone could travel through time, there was no possibility the scarves could be telling the future.

Ah, Selena. He'd finally got to meet her in person! Granted she hadn't spoken to him, but the male was determined. This was his only chance, his final chance, to get himself something he wanted in life. Zeta didn't get passionate about things often, but when he did, he was sure that he needed it, whatever, whoever, it was.

"Where did you get the scarves?" Jackie was saying. Clearly, the male hadn't given up.

Roseclere clicked a few times and made a motion. Confused, Jackie turned to Zeta for guidance, the latter having a better chance of understanding their mentor's coded messages.

"She's saying they were made," Zeta replied, not paying much attention. If Jackie wanted to prove himself right, he certainly wasn't going to get mixed up in it.

Roseclere pointed to herself.

"By her," Zeta added.

Jackie seemed lost in thought, disregarding Zeta's failed translation. Zeta couldn't blame the dirty blonde. If Roseclere had said she'd gotten them from a mysterious parcel or one of the shadier mentors, then there could be a small chance his estimate was correct. But if they were made by the white haired mentor, then probably not. She'd most likely wandered around, gathering random fabrics, and thrown them all together then handed out to the mentors. That would explain all the olive green. There couldn't be that many kills by one tribute, unless they were a superhuman machine modeled to fight.

Smiling slightly at his impossible thought, Zeta followed when Roseclere beckoned them to a steel door some way down the narrow hallway. Once they stood behind her, Roseclere pushed open the door and walked in.

The training center was a huge stadium, the room stretching far above and beyond as far as Zeta could see. Separate mentors and peacekeepers stood at different stations, tributes in tow.

"Welcome, welcome!" At their right, a peacekeeper in crisp white clothing appeared. "This is the training stadium. I presume you are District Twelve, being the last to arrive?"

Roseclere nodded.

"Very well. I'll be your guide," the peacekeeper jotted something down in his notebook. "May I know your full name and weapon of choice? One shall be provided for you if you did not bring one of your own."

Jackie wanted to slap himself. So they could bring weapons after all. Great time to leave his dagger at home.

"Jackie Natrian," he recited when the peacekeeper looked at him expectantly. "I need a dagger."

"Zeta el Intritum," Zeta went after. "I brought my weapon."

"Name?"

"Os Gladii."

Everyone looked confused.

"It's alike a…great sword, I guess."

The peacekeeper nodded. "And where is it?"

"In my tribute room."

"I'll send an attendant to fetch it."

"Alright, thanks."

The peacekeeper signaled to an attendant standing near the door, and the man was off. Zeta just hoped he could find it from the vague description.

"Mentor name?" the peacekeeper was asking.

_Click, click, click click, click. _Roseclere signaled.

The peacekeeper stared. "Right. Forgot you were…" he trailed off. "Anyway, Roseclere Ackart-Clover, time rose, correct?"

Roseclere nodded.

"Excuse me?" Zeta interrupted, looking around for Jackie. The other tribute had wandered away, out of range of the conversation. "What did you say?"

"Huh?" the peacekeeper looked confused.

Dropping his voice a pitch, Zeta asked again. "What did you say about a rose?"

_Click, click. _Roseclere pointed to herself.

"It's her weapon," the peacekeeper pointed the tip of his pen to Roseclere.

"I know," Zeta waved that fact off. "But what was the word before that?"

The peacekeeper looked slightly annoyed now. "It's her weapon," he repeated. "No one really knows what it does, but from translators it apparently allows her to travel between time or something. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have paperwork to file."

Suddenly, Zeta wished it was Jackie, not him, that had overheard. He was beginning to understand what the other tribute was talking about. Though he didn't believe it, but now he understood.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Names and weapons?"

"Rin of Agnesia, fan." Rin reported, marveling at the large room before her. All of the Districts were here—save from District Twelve, who came after them—and were being shown around by the mentors, some having already begun training.

"Xion De'elmar," Xion was saying. "Bow."

Rin stared at him in surprise. "I didn't know you were an archer."

"Well, most people do assume the Reaper has a large scythe always by his side," the male replied. "But I've found bows sturdier and not as self-harming."

"I see," she nodded, her cheeks colouring pink due to her embarrassment that she had been so quick to stereotype. "Well, stereotypes are often wrong. People are just amazing that way."

Xion just stared at her in response.

"Michael-Sunev Phospheorus. Lances and light." Michael was saying.

"Lances and light?" Xion asked as the mentor walked over to join them viewing the stadium.

"It is a deadly combination," the mentor replied, not unkindly. "Either way, what do you want to see first? There are all sorts of stations to learn from."

"Don't we battle?" Rin questioned.

"Training is not all about battling," Michael answered. "There are other types, such as survival training and poison training. They might not look as exiciting as battle training, but they are way more useful. Battle training is for those who lust blood and just want to hop into the arena and start killing," his gaze wandered over to the demons, just for a moment.

Rin looked at Xion. _Survival training? _She mouthed.

The Reaper nodded, and together the two of them wandered over to a lesson about berries.

"Now, pay attention to the shade of this berry," the peacekeeper instructor was saying. "it may seem like the common blueberry in shape and dimension, but its deadly red colour suggests otherwise. These poisonous berries, along with edible blueberries, will be available in the tribute packs found in the arena. Before eating, you must hold it into any source of light and confirm its colour."

Xion stared at the berry blankly. To him, it looked like everything always did: a dull grey due to his colourblindness.

_I just won't open the tribute pack, _he thinks. Without disturbing Rin, he wandered away to a lesson where he could learn.

Rin, watching intensely, turned to where Xion had stood.

"Hey, that berry has the exact same colour as—"

She stopped talking. Xion was gone.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Raphel Sanitatum Piscis," he reported as requested. "I have my tarot cards."

The peacekeeper looked at him strangely, muttering something about tributes and their weapons. Raphel only nodded politely in response and stepped aside to allow Lime to speak.

"Lime Serenity, Gravel."

The peacekeeper stared at her, and this time muttered something about crazy names. Lime, following Raphel's example, smiled—though the corners of her mouth twitched—and stepped aside.

"Aalis. I have Eden," the small boy gestured to his guitar and was let through. He then gave Lime and Raphel a shy little smile and stood a little distance apart from them.

"Aceline de Caelius. Light."

When Aceline joined them, she set to action. Without a single word, she steered them to the survival courses with only one instruction: Learn.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Sion Starlight," she managed, holding Asin's hands away from hurting himself. The male was strong, and she was more for speed than strength. "Gaunlets."

"What's with him?" the peacekeeper stared at Asin, whose eyes were wide and unfocused, pupils dilated.

"He…" Sion searched for words. "Our chariot was the one that crashed and it gave him a scare."

The peacekeeper shrugged. "Name and information?"

Sion stared at Asin, wondering if she should speak for him.

However, the male straightened up suddenly, a devlish smile on his face. "Asin Tairin. Armguards."

Looking slightly spooked by the male's change in personality, the peacekeeper nodded and quickly wrote something down. "Next, please?"

"Kae Seung Hyun," Kae replied. "No weapon."

Meanwhile, Sion stared at Asin, surprised. "What was that?" she asked.

The male being questioned blinked. "What are you talking about?" His voice was high, carefree.

"You suddenly changed moods. You were trying to suicide a while back!"

"No, I wasn't," the male retorted. "Are you dreaming?"

Sion had no response. _What just happened?_

_~Dangerous Times~_

"What's this?" the peacekeeper asked, when all four tributes—accompanied by Lucas—greeted him. "Four?"

"District Eight has four tributes this year," Lucas explained.

"Because of a certain fighter," Rufus muttered.

"Shut up," Lucas suddenly snapped. "What were you thinking, attacking that boy?" the mentor questioned in a dangerously low voice.

Rufus sighed, irritated. "Not this again. I saw him, I shot him. Done."

"You _shot _him?" Shera screeched.

"Figure of speech," the bounty hunter reassured.

Shera and Theo did not look pleased as Lucas glared at the troublesome tribute.

Meanwhile, Eshe excused herself from the group and gave the peacekeeper her information.

"Hele—" she stopped suddenly, looking self-conscious.

The peacekeeper raised an eyebrow, tapping his pen.

"I-I mean, Eshe. Eshe Juriore. I used a—" she stopped again.

The peacekeeper sighed loudly.

"A staff," Eshe finished rather lamely. The peacekeeper waved her aside and gestured to Theo and Shera.

"Shera Galciem. I brought my Korinotsurugi."

"Which is?"

"A katana."

"Right. Next?"

"Theo Drane. Blade gun."

The peacekeeper only sighed, having had his fair share of weird weapons. "And you there?"

Rufus shuffled over, uncaring. "Rufus Wilde. Soul Arbiter."

Lucas followed, back to his normal, overly hyperactive self. "Lucas Jeshua Deifilium. Dual pistols." His face brightened at the mention of his weapons.

The peacekeeper nodded and happily waved them away, rushing to file his paperwork.

Once in the training center, Lucas led them around with no care to training, showing them memorable or cool places like a little child in his own little world.

Pretty soon they split apart, with Rufus wandering to the battle training to challenge the magenta demon from earlier, Eshe to memorize every bit of survival training, and Theo and Shera quietly talking to each other.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Amy Plie!" she reported eager to get inside. "Chuchu bag!"

"Chuchu bag?" the peacekeeper questioned.

"Yep! It has everything in it. Everything!"

"I-I see," Unsure what to say to the hyper pinkette, the male turned to Jin. "And you?"

"Jin Kaien. Vajra." The fighter was much more controlled than the dancer as he gazed at the stadium in quiet awe.

"Large, isn't it?"

The voice came from the figure behind them, hissing in broken, chilling tones.

"Yeah, it really is," Jin quickly replied, Amy muttering agreement.

"Arcana Latrodectus Viduas," their mentor registered. "Venom."

Unseen, Amy gripped Jin's arm tigher.

"Well, children," Arcana numerous, sharp black legs clicked on the marble surface. "What shall we do before dinner?"

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Name?"

"What's it to you?" Cranky from his fight with Rufus, Dio snapped.

The peacekeeper started. "I-I need it to register you in," he replied hesitantly, having been warned to keep careful around demons.

"Don't mind him, he kicks puppies," Ley dismissed, shoving Dio aside. "Ley von Crimson River. I have my customized Ultima."

The peacekeeper nodded, scribbling furiously.

Lucifer stared at Dio, the boy's violet eyes judging.

"Dio Burning Canyon," he took a moment to sneer at the smug mentor. "Rake hand."

The peacekeeper peered from the top of his notebook. "Is that—"

Dio held up his arm, a faintly pink and black mist swirled. "Care for me to prove it?"

Ley smirked and crossed her legs, as she always did when about to witness a fight.

"No! All in good order, thank you very much, please move into the stadium. Please." The peacekeeper diverted his eyes to his notebook.

"Lucifael-Sunev Phosphorus," the boy mentor went after. "Crime and Punishment."

Dio snorted. "What are you? The embodiment of justice?"

"Your name suggests otherwise," Ley yawned.

Lucifer ignored them, walking ahead. Though, as the boy passed Dio, the demon heard Lucifer mutter something rather unpleasant.

"What did you say?" the chief growled.

"Temperamental, are we?" Lucifer challenged, tone innocent, but Dio knew better.

The male was inches away from attacking the kid. That seemed to be all he wanted to do these days. "Answer me."

"If you want to fight, I suggest the battle area. I will enjoy ripping out those beautiful vocal chords of yours with my bare hands."

"I will accept your challenge," Dio replied back icily, the demon chief breaking his gaze with the mentor and stalking to the battle training arena, Lucifer close behind. After a moment's thought, Ley floated behind, intending to watch for her own amusement. Oh, how she missed viewing fights to the death.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Mari Ming Onette. I have my Soul Takers," Mari signaled to her circling blades.

"Zero Zephyrum. Wielder of the Grandark."

"And the Grandark is…?" the peacekeeper raised an eyebrow.

Zero signaled to his grumbling sword.

"Is that sword—" the peacekeeper shook his head. "Nevermind. Must be hearing things. Carry on!"

Acho was next. "Acho," he shrugged. "Don't know my last name. Don't have a specific weapon, either."

Zero and Mari stared at their fidgeting mentor. Once again, it was left to imagination at how he could've possibly won.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Lire Eryuell," she smiled. "I'd like to use the Composite bow, if I may."

From behind, Selena smiled. "You can use anything, dear."

The peacekeeper grumbled and wrote something down, eyes darting.

"Pardon me?" Lire requested.

"The bow is a useless weapon, but do as you wish," the peacekeeper sighed. "A lot of easy kills, this year."

Lire was shocked into silence, her attempt at being friendly ruined. Sensing the mood, Ryan stepped in.

"Ryan Woodguard. Storm Pike and Storm Blades."

The peacekeeper nodded. "And you, miss?"

Selena cleared her throat. "Selena Soldes. Magic."

Lire broke away after they were allowed in, heading to the back of one of the stations.

Chasing after her, Ryan found the female elf in tears.

"Oh," he murmured, unsure how to act. "Lire, that guy didn't upset you that much, did he?"

The elf sniffed. "No, not really," she admitted, wiping her eyes. "I-I just don't know why…"

Ryan wasn't the greatest at comforting people, but the male what to do from the romantic and cheesy tales Lian would tell him of true love. Hey, he and Lire might not be runaway royals from a distant land hidden in the mists and persuaded by demons, but the crying girl was the same.

"Oh, Lire," he squeezed in next to her. "Don't worry about it. Stupid peacekeepers don't know what's good even if it slaps them in the face. They are from Guard, after all."

"Are you insulting Elesis and Ronan?" Lire cracked a smile and Ryan gave himself a pat on the back. Yes! It was working! Incredibly and unbelievably cheesy, but she smiled.

"Don't tell them," he whispered.

Lire smiled. "I can't promise."

"Lire!" he protested.

"Okay, okay!" she laughed. "I won't."

"Swear."

"Ryan, this is silly—" Lire began to look at the training station near them.

"Swear," he was firm.

"Fine, fine. I swear to not tell Elesis or Ronan."

"And?" His eyes sparkled in the dim light, face a mischievous smile.

"And?" she repeated, confused.

"You tell me," he teased.

"What?" Lire stared at Ryan, but the male elf only waited, eyes staring directly into hers.

"To tell me your feelings," he finally said after a pause. "Lire, the Chase Games are a stressing subject. The smallest thing will upset you. But if you have someone to lean on, you'll be okay."

"So you want us to be friends for a month?" Lire's mouth twitched, the female beginning to understand.

"More than that."

"A…relationship?" she questioned, really surprised now.

Ryan slowly nodded. Then, seeing Lire hesitate, began to ramble.

"We don't have to be vocal about it, or express it like Amy and Jin. It can be our secret. We can just eat together, or talk. Nothing beyond that. Please, Lire? Consider it. I really like you. Say you'll go out with me, just for a month. Your emotions don't even have to be real. I just really like you. Please? Before we die?"

Lire was quiet, and Ryan began to fear the worst.

"My brother would never approve," Lire finally said, and Ryan slumped.

"But," the female continued. "He's not here right now."

The orange haired male brightened. "Does that mean…"

Lire nodded. "Yes," she breathed. "One month. Why not."

Ryan seemed in shock. "I have a girlfriend," he muttered, more to himself than Lire. "I have a girlfriend!" he repeated to her, and she nodded, smiling along.

He reached out to her, and she allowed herself to be taken into his arms, and they shared their first hug. Lire could feel Ryan's strong, energetic heart and his light breathing onto her hair. Though it was only for a month and the female elf, as hard as she tried, couldn't feel the same strong feelings Ryan had for her, Lire realized that her brother was wrong, and she liked making her friend, Ryan, happy.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Zeke Sieghart. I have my Soluna."

After some minutes of painful walking in which a very embarrassed Kieran had to support the Prime Knight, they reached the training system.

"Can you point us to the nearest hospital, though?" Sieghart flashed a quick grin that quickly changed into a grimace.

The peacekeeper nodded. "The aid station is a little while east of here," he peered at Sieghart. "Though we usually treat casualties _after _training."

Sieghart smiled. "I'm special, then."

"Well, we need the other two to register, and then you can go off." The peacekeeper pursed his lips.

"Kieran Roarke," supporting Sieghart on one shoulder, the male fumbled in his pouch. "I use a staff, and, well, this." Kieran up a black opal skull, dark as midnight.

Sieghart stared at it. "Holy crap. Did you kill a newborn to get that?"

Kieran huffed. "This is a necessary tool for necromancer. And no, I didn't harm a child to get this. What makes you think that?"

Sieghart shrugged. "Dunno. You seemed like the kind of guy that was all for spilling the blood of virgins to summon the dark lord or something."

Kieran stared. "That is the worst necromancer stereotype I have ever heard, you know? You make me sound like a witch-doctor."

"Though, you know, if you needed virgin's blood you could just use your own," Sieghart continued on, unbothered.

"What makes you think—" the necromancer sputtered. Dropping SIeghart—and a really satisfying groan—Kieran began to walk to the training center. "Keep that up and I'll use yours."

Sieghart smirked. "I had a girlfriend."

The necromancer simply continued walking. Sieghart sat on the ground for some time, expecting the other tribute to come back, but Kieran just continued on.

"Kieran…?" The Prime Knight called after some time.

The necromancer continued walking.

"C'mon, don't be like that. I was joking."

Kieran slowed.

In the background, Giou casually registered to the peacekeeper, who was watching with interest.

"Giou. I have Falcatae."

"Right. Are these your—"

"Yeah."

A puzzled peacekeeper watched Giou walk away from the two tributes, completely uncaring.

"Kieran, just take me to the aid's. I don't want to sit here for a month," Sieghart was saying.

Kieran sighed and turned back, swiftly hoisting the Prime Knight up. "I'm missing training," he grumbled.

"Don't worry," Sieghart relaxed and his trademark grin surfaced. "When the Games start, we'll team up and kick their asses."

"…'Kay."

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Arme Glenstid, War Staff," Arme reported, standing at Lass's side.

"And the sir?" the peacekeeper looked pointedly at Lass.

"Lass Isolet. Nodachi."

"Thank you. And the mentors?"

"Saika Leica. Book and wand. Dark magic."

"You use dark magic?" Arme questioned.

Saika nodded.

Arme positively exploded. "Teach me! You must teach me. Please?"

Saika stared at her. "I don't really—"

"Please!" the mage begged.

Brendan laughed. "Just do it, Saika. Otherwise she won't leave you alone."

Saika blinked. "Alright, I'll teach you."

"Yay!" Arme cheered. "Thank you so much!"

Immature, are we?" Brendan smiled. "Brendan Uezuki. Anything."

"Shut up—" Arme paused. "Wait, anything?" She and Lass turned questioning gazes on Brendan.

The male nodded. "I know a lot of weapons."

The tributes seemed shocked, looking to Saika who just shrugged.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Elesis Sieghart. Ssanggeom."

The peacekeeper seemed surprise. "You do know that's a hard weapon, right?"

"Elesis, glared at him. "What's it to you?"

The peacekeeper started. "No, nothing. Next?"

"You know, Elesis, you should really try to be polite to Serdin," Ronan commented. "Ronan Erudon. Tyrfing."

"Don't tell me what to be," the female bit back.

Ronan just shrugged, unbothered.

Sharrif was next. Smiling that ruby smirk of hers, the female spoke quietly. "Kamilah Sharrifakh Herliohapht. Thu'ban."

They walked into the training area, where Sharrif left them to their own deeds.

Despite Ronan's attempt to make conversation, Elesis ignored the male and they soon separated.

* * *

_Boring chapter /:_

_Review Replies:_

_MelenMelon: Ahaha, thank you very much! ^^  
And I know ^'' I write too much sometimes xD;;;  
Oh, really? Thank you so much u vu  
Ahaha, well, we won't know until her chapter come  
I will try my best to update quickly, then! Thanks again!  
LOLYes. Poor, poor Jin.  
I know xD;;; the scarves are a bit confusing. Hopefully it becomes clearer to you as the story goes on!_

_Lucienteal: Aaswegiahg you make it sound so much better than it is stahp.  
Yesu Aalis is such a qt.  
Awaeglskahdgsadg Okay I'll update quickly!_

_Snowskeeper: Aw. Well, alrighty.  
LOLOL. Are you suggesting something here?  
Alrighty, if you say so!  
Lolwhut.  
Mmhmm. Well, more like poor tributes. xD;;;  
/ducks for cover/ PREPARE!_

_hardcoreGSfan: llD" Scenes.  
LOLYES. Good job Ryan.  
Oh Asin. We love Asin llD"  
LOLWHUT—Why was that so unexpected?  
Lol~ Alrighty! Hope you had a nice sleep!  
LOL. Well, that is my intentio _

_XxcrystalzxX: Somewhat xD Zero kills the most first of al  
Ohh, are you? I am too! I love his 4th job. And he's just awesome in genera .  
Ohhh~ Well, originally, Arme was going to be the Victor ouo Her and her meteors. But now, who knows?_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: Yes, he will be ouo  
Dio is :c Dio, wrai?  
LOL. Well, it can get confusing. Sometime in the Games, I can make a chart or something xD;;  
DUN DUN DUN! Maybe is all I'm sayin  
YES OF COURSE BLACK BUTLER IS AMAZING/fangirls  
Ahahah yes they are! I apologize, my clothing description skills aren't the best xD;;;  
Whoa, really? You're 13 and know two languages? Ermaigehd. And oh no, your English is fine! u v u  
Alrighty! I'll try to update ASAP.  
;A ;/pats_

_WinterBarrows: Aww, was it really that good? Thank you very much!  
But I'm not llD my romantic scenes are cheesy llD"  
LOL. Well, I suppose it was long. And no! Bad life! Do not in the way of interneting. D8  
I understand what you mean, though xD:; I'll be having a sleepover with my friends, then suddenly I'll either see one of my favourite stories update, or get hit by inspiration, and I'll want to write or read really badly. xD  
Ohh, I understand what you mean. Honestly, I think that in order for the relationship to work, Dio might need to start it, since Zero is a little shy xD;; But oh god, Dio raping Zero 24/7 stories are like…nope. No thanks. xD;;  
I know what you mean! I support both, actually. It's quite interesting to see how they're written. The whole DioXZero/ZeroXDio relationship is pretty complicated and it's lovely to read different author's intake on it u v u.  
LOLYES. Fangirl number one rule: SHIP ALL THE PAIRINGS.  
Asaglkahsdg YES I'M NOT A FREAK! I did that too as a child llD" And sometimes I still do it now xD:; Like during a long car ride I'll just pop in my headphones and start imagining. Actually, most of the ideas for DT and Rebuilding came from that xD;;;  
Well, try! O U O If you're in line waiting or on a car, just think about it. xD;  
LOLYES. Useful skill to have ouo  
LOLOLOLOL. Oh, ZeroXDio? Show moi OUO And yes, please. Write more/slapped  
LOL. That would be one heck of a plot twist.  
Stahp no did you mean DT is too mediocre to inspire something as pro as Love Notes.  
LOLYES. WORSHIP THE SEXUAL TENSION.  
Well, there was a SiegXKieran scene, though I probably failed llD I'm sorry I can't fluff.  
No, I actually haven't seen Hey Arnold :c I grew up watching InuYasha, Tokyo Mew Mew, and Pretty Cure xD:;  
LOL. It's fine, we're all mean to our characters ouo  
Aw ; A ; I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure she's had a good, long life with many happy memories. It's good that you dote on her so much, she's probably really happy!  
When the times comes, if you want to talk about it, I'm here, dea  
YES HAPPIER SUBJECTS. IKR. They are so cute. u v u  
Oh god. So Ronan tops.  
Yes. It must!_

_CrimsonFlarez: Is it? I'm glad you took the time to read it, then! Thank you very much!  
Alrighty, goo  
Ahaha, it's no problem! Continue writing!  
I wil _

_Olak: NO YOU MUST CAN. Dem endings OUO I love my cliffhangers.  
Thank you very much!  
/revives you/ /pats your heart/ DT has this effect on people llD"_

_Darkeinjel: YES OMFG I LOVE MAGI WITH EVERY FIBRE OF MY BEING LIKE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW I LOVE IT SO MUCH.  
Ja'far is my precious baby ;u;  
And yes! I believe Lucienteal (AKA Puriyo) based Sharrif off Sharrkan. u v u _


	36. Day 6

_Another update! u v u _

_Lucienteal: Awaeglksahdgasdg I'm sorry I can't Sharrif is too pro for me to write properly._

_For anyone that doesn't know, Lucienteal and I paired her OC, Sharrif, with mine, Acho, and with her other OC, Lucas, as background noise c:._

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Four: Day 6

_Swish, swish. _The elegant figure of a female flips into the air twice, white ponytail whipping around as she throws two perfectly aimed daggers into the straw dummy.

"Sharrif, how do you do that?" a male watching nearby comments, eyes wide.

The female rises from her landing position and adjusts her golden belt, chains clinking together as her gloved fingers danced around the edge of cold gold. She laughs, a harsh, barking tone. "Perfection? Please. There's no such thing. Don't waste your words."

The male shakes his head and edges away from Sharrif as she hops over the railing and leans against it.

"So what are you here for, Achi?"

Acho coloured. "My name's Acho."

"I know," Sharrif yawned and checked her nails.

Unsure how to reply, Acho decided to answer her previous question. "Can't a person visit his girlfriend?" the male grinned cheekily.

Sharrif grabbed his collar as soon as he finished his last word. "Don't get coky, you," she breathed, her face an inch from Acho's. "I'm only in this for bed. Understand?"

Acho gulped. "A-Alright."

"Good." Sharrif letes go of Acho, the male stumbling to grab the fence, hacking.

"You know I have breathing problems," he said weakly.

Sharrif just nodded.

Acho didn't reply, busy coughing and trying to regain his breath. Sharrif simply watched, her eyes cold as ever.

"So. What do you really want?" she questioned again.

Acho coughed a few more times and straightened up, still holding the railing. "It's for one of my tributes," he began, and paused to catch his breath.

"What about him?" Sharrif snapped.

"I—He—" Acho stammered. "I need someone to train him."

"Why can't yo do it?" Sharrif's slender eyes narrowed, watching Acho's actions closely.

"He—" Acho looked embarrassed. "He scares me."

Sharrif snickered.

"You should see him!" Acho tried to defend himself. "He's got a huge sword and strict posture, plus he always wears that mask of his!"

Sharrif yawned. "I really don't give a shit."

Acho faltered. "Right."

"Your point?" She gestured for him to continue.

"I was wondering if you'd teach him some basics?" Acho perked up, looking hopeful.

Sharrif stared at him. "You're kidding."

Acho shook his head, then regretted it as his breath caught suddenly and nausea waved up.

"Why would _I _train _your _tributes?"

"Please, Sharrif," Acho begged.

"No." The female didn't pause to think.

"Why not?" Acho sounded desperate. Then again, he almost always did.

"I've got other things to do."

"Like what? Help Lucas?"

"Don't be a whiny girlfriend now, Acho."

"Whiny—girlfriend—" Acho spluttered.

"Now, I'd like to continue my practice in silence, if you would."

"Please, Sharrif? Think about it?"

Sharrif sighed. She didn't want to deal with Acho and his whiny behaviour now. "Fine. Tomorrow. Nine AM. Don't be late."

Acho brightened. "Great! Thanks, Sharrif!" He began to head out, waving at her in goodbye.

Sharrif just smiled in response, eyes cold as ever.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Where were you?'

The brown haired male bursts into Sharrif's room, flinging the door open.

The female in question has a towel in her hands, topless. "What do you mean?"

"Today. At nine," Acho says, breathless from his run.

"Right. We were supposed to meet, right?"

"I had to drag my tributes out of bed," Acho accused. "Where were you?" he repeated.

"I lied," Sharrif said casually, picking at a small plate filled with sweets. She picked one up, unwrapped it, and popped it in her mouth. Still topless, she sits down to face Acho and throws the wrapper at him. "Turkish delight."

It hit the male square in the forehead, and Acho did not look pleased. "You told me you would be there!"

"I lied," Sharrif repeated, serene as ever. "It was only to get rid of you."

Acho looked hurt. "Sharrif—"

"Yes?" The female stretched, her graceful, tanned arms reflexing as her slender muscles accented her curvy figure.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"Do what?"

"Date."

The female smirked. "We're not—"

"Whatever it is we're doing!" Archo raised his voice and immediately began coughing.

"Why not? I get my pleasure and you get yours. We're happy."

"Because you're only trying to get rid of me!"

"Don't be whiny, Acho. Why does that bother you?" Sharrif was still perfectly calm.

The male stared at her. "Sharrif, do you have a heart?"

Without hesitating, the female turned her steely cold eyes on him.

"No."

_~Dangerous Times~_

Another day, another lie. That was the agreement Sharrif had subconsciously adapted to follow, day by day. It was more of a reflex action than anything. She did it when she needed an excuse, when she was asked a question, even in normal day-to-day conversation. At first it had been a remaining reminder from her Games. Then, it became a hobby. Slowly, it morphed into a habit.

And what was it now?

Sharrif had no pride, no dignity. She'd left that behind in the arena, when she had first picked up the shining white steel of the scimitar and felt the blood spatter onto her skin, fresh and warm. She was just fine with admitting that she was nothing but a dirty liar. That was what she was, and she couldn't change it, even if she wanted.

In ways, she didn't want to change. Serdin was a dangerous place, sponsors always looking to get the better deal. The black markets of District One were suicide for a woman to venture alone, but, due to her past experience in the arena, she knew how to read people. To worm herself into the heads of men and women alike, to ignore stained pillowcases and a heated room exchanged for information or promises.

In some twisted reason, Sharrif would say she was even proud of it, if pride was something she dared to associate with her person. She was proud that she was able to lie so easily, to get what she wanted in life and leave people to be hurt while she ran away, free. It showed that she was the winner, that she was the one able to get up and kick fate in the face, prove to whatever sadistic being above that she wasn't any mere citizen dragged into the Chase Games, oh no, she was the winner. She was the one able to throw humanity away to pick up the heat of battle, to adapt to her new surroundings and enemies and use it to her advantage. She lived, she played with her words and used her wits to slit her teammates's throat in the night, when they thought that innocent little Sharrif would be tucked away, sleeping the day away.

And ultimately, she was crowned the Victor, the one that had slaughtered everyone else without the bat of an eyelash. It was an achievement given to only one person per year, and she was the one that worked to get it. Not fate, not destiny, but her own humanity and choice. And if the skills she used to keep herself alive was going to be scorned by the people that landed her in this mess, so be it.

Sharrif smirked, melting into the plush of her scarlet armchair. Looking up at the celling, she spoke to whatever lay up there, to the Serdin nobles that laughed behind their petty lapdogs and pretty fans, to the tributes that avoided her, to the mentors, her co-workers, that scorned her, and lastly, to her own self, her personality spun by lies and her beating heart, alive because of her cruel decisions on the battlefield.

"Do your fucking worst."

* * *

_Short chapter I'm sorry. ; A ;_

_Maybe I should've put a warning for language lD" I don't use a lot of language in my writing often (I don't _think) _so I was a bit nervous about this one. xD_

_Snowskeeper: /reloads shotgun/  
Awaeglsakdg what? I have no idea what you're talking about—It wasn't ungrateful—  
LOLOL. H-Have fun with that.  
Chapter review response:  
LOL. Yes, maybe he does.  
Inferring 8D I love it.  
Ohmygod kismesitude. LOLOL.  
Aaglksag oh no, not really u vu Thank you all the same!  
LOL. Nope! You still got first review c: /hands gold star_

_MelenMelon: Ahh, thank you /v/ you're too kind!  
I shall~ u v u and oh no, I'm pretty sure Lucienteal won't take offense.  
Hmm..Maybe. I still don't know, Lucifer's chapter is a long way from now c:  
Yes, I believe they are u v u  
LOL. Yes, they certainly are!_

_Satan akasirenys: Dangerous Timer. Dangerous Timerian. Welp, the (small) DT fanbase has a name now. xD;;  
AND NO STHAP. Everyone who reads DT is a true Dangerous Time  
Yes dat RyanLire  
/pats your kokoro/  
LOLYES.  
PFt—no, no spoilers. :c_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: Alrighty~ Glad you liked it! u v u  
Keyword: was. Maybe not anymore. lD Oh, but you're an Arme user? That's coo Sirenys is one too. I'm more of a Ley person myself. u v u  
Aww /pats/ Well, you'll get better with practice!  
Aww. ; w ;/pats/ I'm sorry ; A; But if you've followed me enough, you'll know that I am an angst author. xD:;_

_WinterBarrows: Ffdotnet keeps cutting off my review replies to you /:  
Awalsghas no I'm not pro it was your character that made it pro /v/ /loves/ oh stahp you make me blush /v/ It really wasn't anything good!  
Nonon stahp DT is not pro lD"  
LOL. Well, it saves you the trouble of lookin  
Awaegklsg no no I'm not worthy of such a character /A/ My characters are so bad. If there's three things I can't do, its fluff, angst, and characters. xD;  
/lets you love/ /v/  
Ahaha no I fail at romance lD"  
LOLOL. Same, same here. llD" I'll be playing GC with Melen and I'll kinda accidentally die and leave her to solo cause I'll be reading lD" Oh I'm a bad person.  
Aw D8 That's unfortunate, but everyone has their pairings. I'm just glad someone ships the same stuff I do lD" A lot of people are shipping different pairings these days.  
Oh no, please, rant all you want c: I can only sit here and go like "YES YES, YOU UNDERSTAND." I completely agree with everything you just said! The falling in love with them falling in love was completely understandable, and my reaction was literally "Ermaigehd YEEE" Let me love you for being a fangirl and understanding my painful pairings /loves/  
EVERYTHING AS LONG AS THERE IS A REASON AND EVEN IF THERE ISN'T.  
Awww. I suddenly got an image of a child holding up a pink unicorn and labeling it Dio. I felt the need to share that u v u/onrushed  
Aw ; A ; But I really like your ZeroXDio works ; A ; Can you PM it maybe? I completely understand if you don't want to, but I just really wanted to read it. xD;;;  
And no, I'm sure your ZeroXDIo is wonderful! It's me that can't write boyxboy for my life. xD;;  
Awalghsags no no if I was better than you at writing fluff or in general the world would explode.  
LOLOL. Yes, indeed OUO  
Aww, I'm jelly ;_; I actually haven't watched Dragon Ball Z, Digimon, or Sailor Moon ; A ;  
It's the least I can do u v u. I recently had a really bad breakup and my friends were amazing, so I understand how important a friend can be in hard times ;u;.  
LOL. Well, you sent me a working link in a PM, so that's all goo _

_3Complete3: Yes, I have! I know, it was so wonderful! I actually didn't cry and my friend called me soulless. xD;; _

_XxcrystalzxX: Ahaha, I'm really sorry ^^;; I wish I could update a chapter a day like some authors, but yes, I am human, and sometimes I have very little time to write xD;;  
Oh no, I don't. What I do is I handwrite a draft, edit it, then type it up and edit it somewhat again, and then submit! It usually takes a few hours for me to handwrite and type it up, which is why I probably update really slowly ^^;;;  
Mmhmm, they are! I didn't expect that either xD;; And yes, I believe most of them are. _

_CrimsonFlarez: Ahahaha, thank you very much! will try my best to! _


	37. Day 7

_I wrote this at like 3:00 AM after I got back from America dead tired so excuse me if I have any mistakes I'm sorry ; w ;_

_Sirenys: I'm so sorry this is only like an edit of what I wrote you for Christmas sobs on ground._

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Five: Day 7

She watches them practice. The silver haired male with his speed of lightning and flashing steel Nodachi; the purple haired female that seemed to change moods so quickly, from her violet eyes lighting up in happiness to dark purple glazed over with misery. Brendan is with them, the white haired male carefully correcting Lass's stance or Arme's posture. Saika wishes she could do something, but she's useless with daggers and the purple haired female, Arme, though she pleaded Saika teach her black magic, seemed slightly distracted and would not listen to her.

So she can only watch and see how this turns out.

Saika knows that the chances of them living through the first few days are not likely. She's seen the looks of some of the other tributes, and by what's she's seen, she doesn't like. There's a robot, two demons, a sniper, and a mentally unstable fighter. With her two tributes pitied against these people, they outcome was not in their favour.

This was Saika's first year coaching. The year before, she'd won her Chase Games through the use of suicidal magical drain. Giant black meteors bombed the place, and they'd gotten her to a doctor before her life energy started to drain out. Saika hadn't expected to live through that, and yet, here she was, alive and watching the next generation of the Chase Games about to head off and kill. It was hard for her, to watch the tributes that she'd gotten to know in a month die in front of her, in live view rather than television, and not be able to do anything about it. In the passing few days leading up to the arrival of the tributes, she'd found herself leaning more and more on Kae and Brendan's support. The foxy mentor seemed so perfectly at ease with the whole thing, able to calm her down completely when she was being completely irrational, while her white haired co-worker had been at this for many years and it didn't seemed to bother him. Atleast, not from what she'd seen.

In a way, she was glad she'd gotten to know the tributes. Though they were certainly odd and all from different districts, the mix of culture from each tribute brought from their district made the place feel more exotic, more special.

Saika knew she was seeing the good parts of things. There was still the reminder that they only had one month, only one month before their hard-taught tributes headed off to kill each other. It was always hard on the mentor that way, but that was life.

Those words were taught to her by the two guys that had always seemed to be there for her. Saika wanted to laugh, at the terribly irony that winning the Chase Games could get _two _Victors prying for her hand, but there seemed to be nothing funny in that. Saika understood that the feeling between the three of them was simply friendship, that they all needed someone to lean on sometimes. She's seen it in the way Kae's ears flicker back and forth suddenly when noise occurs, when his eyes go wild and dart around as if expecting an enemy from the shadows. She knows how insecure they feel from the way Brendan's hands shake when he is without a weapon, when his voice slightly lowers from the carefree tone it adapted to deal with things in a more suitable way. And, she's sure, she knows it in the way she'll just break down in the middle of the hall and start sobbing, even though she knows it's wrong, it's not right that she's a whimpering mess on the ground while everyone else attempts to soothe her and calm her hair, even Roseclere giving her one of her beloved flowers to have only disappointed clicks echo from the mentor's vocal chords as Saika touches it and it dies slowly.

She thinks that it isn't fair, that it isn't fair how she has to rely on everyone all the time. Since when was she this weak? Wasn't she Saika, the battle mage from District Two, the one that wiped the place dry of life with one single spell? Since when did she have to sit down with Kae when things got hard, the mentor gently touching his elbow as she leaned on his shoulder and the two watched the clouds in silence, not speaking a word. The gesture wasn't romantic, she'd done it times before with Brendan and even Roseclere, but it was just something that made her feel more at peace.

Still, Saika hated being a burden, and it seemed that was all she was these days. She'd drop the teapot and even Sharrif would jump to pick it up. It seemed they all babied her, the mage from Two, the newest mentor, that they were all willing to support her. And yet, she wanted to cry out, why care for her when they were so broken themselves? Why give up on your own hopes to help me, to believe in me when you've dropped the torch of your own life, to tell me I can live on when all you want to do is wait for the day you pass, quickly and smoothly, the day you'll depart from the hell called Earth, with no one to remember your name but the snobbish Serdin nobles that didn't care at all?

And it hurts, the feeling deep in her chest, watching all these different people, walking by day by day, dealing with their own problems and yet thinking to look out for others. It hurts, watching Kae scratch himself hard when the Serdin nobles come into view, when Brendan drops everything and heads off to the training arena to 'clear his mind', when Roseclere clicks frantically and points to her rose and yet they all stare at her with dull eyes, as if wondering what the mad little girl from Twelve was coming up with now. Saika wanted it to all end, just everything, because it simply wasn't fair. Who came up with the twisted idea of the Games? Who was to say that eleven must lose their life, while one had to bear the hurt meant for a handful of people?  
They said that you couldn't understand until you actually experienced it, and Saika used to think them wrong, but now she knew they were right. But all of them had experienced it, each and every one of the Victors, and that was what made them bond together when the nightmares became too much, when the memories would flash suddenly in the dawn of day.

But it also drew them apart, drew them further away from each other due to the knowledge that they, each and every one of them with no excuses, had committed the sin of killing another, killing the people you had to rely on with for a month, feeling the scarlet blood rush out and mix with salty tears as the crowd cheered below and asked for more bloodlust, for a forest fire, acid rain, anything to make them suffer more, and all they wanted to do was cry, cry and break down and lie down and move no more because it all too much, it was just all too much.

And suddenly she finds the tears on her palm, fresh and glittering in the light. Looking around quickly, she brushed crystal tears away from her long, feathered eyelashes, and thought of happier thoughts. This wouldn't do. She wouldn't suddenly start crying again.

She mused in her own little world for a while longer, but was interrupted by the quick, soft brush of fur.

"Hey! Saika! What's up?" The cheery voice calls to her, and she stares back.

"Nothing really. You?" She isn't in the mood to talk and keeps her glance focused on the pair training before her.

"Just going around to all the mentors," The male smiles and hops to sit beside her. "I'm seeing how everyone's tributes are! Though, some chased me off,"

Saika edged away from the hyperactive young fox. "I see. Well, feel free to watch, Kae."

Kae grinned. "Thanks!"

Saika shook her head and stole glances at the young man sitting beside her. What a strange guy. Out of all the mentors, Kae was the only one that seemed to be perfectly happy and at ease with this whole Chase Games thing. Some said it was because the fox was dense, stupid, not understanding the whole situation, but Saika wondered about that. Surely, someone who won the Chase Games had be to smarter? Still, she kept her thoughts to herself—as always—and the two sat in silence, watching the tributes.

"I wonder who's going to win this year," Kae says, with an almost singsong tone.

Saika shrugged. "I don't know."

"Are the odds in your tributes' favour?" Kae continues to question almost innocently, and Saika has to resist from telling him to shush.

"I can't say for sure." She replies back stiffly, hoping that would end the conversation.

"Eh. Well, you should see some of the other mentors. That Zero guy broke a few pounds of steel this morning and Acho's been all over him," Kae laughed.

"Hmm," Saika gave the very strong impression that she was not interested.

Yet, Kae blabbered on, and Saika listened quietly, with her hands folded in her lap and gaze on the tributes. As his voice drifted into the sky, she found it a bit comforting that he was there to make noise. She leaned back and listened, sometimes even commenting on her own thoughts.

Though the Chase Games were a dark time for tributes and mentors alike, sometimes there were the small comforts.

_It's so short sobs on ground._

* * *

_I'm sorry ;_; There'll be longer chapters once the games actually start, which is…23? Chapters away. Oh gosh, still a long time I8_

_Review replies:_

_Snowskeeper: Pftt—well, Zero is already strong enough without training, and Acho was always incompetent. He's probably too weak to be violent anyways lD"  
That's a good saying! I've never heard it before, but it's a good saying. Not for whose being attacked, but it seems…Right, I have no idea how to continue on now so I'll just leave off here. xD:;;  
…/looks at the other reviewer's boxes/ /looks at yours/ (I laughed so hard at that you don't even know)  
Hmm…true, true OUO What will happen if he tells the others, I wonder OUO  
P-purple fire? xD:; I don't think he's pleased.  
LOLOLOLohmygod. HomestuckXGC crossover.  
/v/ Pftt—no. Anyone could do it c:  
Lolwhut—um, no problem? xD;; Of course I'd continue to write DT, I fully intend to finish it! u v u Unless I suddenly die or something. If DT doesn't update and goes dead, it means I'm either dead or in the hospital—llD"_

_Sire dtimerian: (Dat name /hands gold star/)  
What-  
Awaegskdg no what scientific facts and what pro u  
LOLWHUT—well, if you guys wanna help me take over the world, I'm not complaining/shot_

_XxcrystalzxX: I'm sorry about that D8 It's just a little hard to write a lot when it's just a POV about a mentor and some of their insights. I really don't want to bore people with a whole biography on the mentor or anything xD;  
Lol~ Did you really? Well, perhaps you can do that when the Games start. Those chapters will be longer, I promise.  
Oh gosh, I'm sorry about that! I should've put a warning ;_; Same, here, but Sharrif is just…yeah. llD"  
Oh, really? Why not? For me, it doesn't matter how bad you think you suck. If you put time and effort into it, why not show it to the world? Get feedback from a whole community rather than just a few people. I can understand if you feel shy about showing your stories, though u vu You can always get a beta reader, a friend, or another author to read it first. xD  
Whoa, seriously? That's so strange! Actually, Sirenys (believe it or, she's actually a lot more serious than her reviews suggest) and I are like that. I'm the author and she's the artist. She does all my book covers, character designs/promos, icons, crack drawings, and editing. She draws for my birthday, and I write for hers /v/ It's a really good system! u v u  
Did you? That's wonderful. I sometimes am inspired by drawings and ideas of others, as well! It's always lovely that you have a good friend by your side and that can help you. Really, you and Crimson really do remind me of Sirenys and I. xD;_

_WInterBarrows: Take it as a good sign we have a lot of talk about xD  
Sure! /passes you Acho/ Be careful, he bruises like a peach.  
Awaeglksadgklhsdg thank yo It's really not that good, but thank you so muc  
Alrighty, good u v u  
D8 Keyboard, wat r u doing? Keyboard, stahp. Let WinterBarrows type I8  
Non he makes me pro.  
Awaelgsadg thank you /v/  
LOLOL I wish. Trust me, I can't original for my life. My characters are really bad/sobs on ground/ That would be awesome, though. It's probably everyone's, but my ultimate goal in life would be to publish a book. /v/  
LOLOL. Poor, poor Mari. xD;; That reminds me of the time my Mari was still naked from her last hero run, and I accidentally went into a dungeon with no armor on lD" My Ley and Mari both have the heroes set, so I originally thought it was my Ley who was naked, not Mari, and I couldn't tell. Then I got into the dungeon and started dying. Oops. But there was this sexy white haired Twilight Dio there so it's okay c: /slapped  
Oh, really? For me, the only pairing I'm possessive of is DeadCharacterXBeingAlive. Like seriously. Why do characters have to die it's so unfair it just gives us feels ;_;  
Being serious, idk. I'm actually pretty lax about pairings; and I'll read anything if its good c: The only thing I can't stand is when people make a male character really uke and rapeable and OOC with no solid reason other than "yaooiii11!11!"  
AWEKAGAG AND I'M SO GLAD YOU SHIP WHATI SHIP BECAUSE NOW I CAN STALK AND HUG THE SCREEN WHEN YOU PUBLISH A NEW STORY OR UPDATE. OUO  
/loves you back/ Finally, we are understoo /dances away into field of OTPs and fine GC boys/  
YEEE. YES. ALL MY YES. JUST TAKE ALL MY YES.  
LLOLOL. Ermaigehd. xD  
LOlalrighty! And I saw that you did PM it c: I replied! u v u It's wonderful, by the way c:  
OhmygodDragonBallZLOLOLOL.  
That sounds adorable xD You have a brother? Lucky! I'm an only child, which can get a bit lonely sometimes :c  
They are ;u; I hope that too! But if it does happen, we'll be here. /heart/ /Gosh ffdotnet why do you block the heart lessthan thing this is important D8/  
LOLOL. Poor, poor Mari.  
I SHALL UPDATE OU O I swear, half the reason I update so quickly is because I'm so eager to answer the reviews xD_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: That's awesome u vu Arme's are awesome with their heals and meteors. I'm not an Arme user myself, but Battle Mage is so fun c:  
I know what you mean! Geas is amazing. I love it so much. Tempest and Core Breaker, hnnngg.  
Ermaigehd you have high level characters. My Ley is only 69, and my Mari's…59? 60? 62? Idek. I have a lot of characters around the 50-60 range, so I get confused. xD;;  
Oh god. As soon as Ley came out my friend cashed her and I was so jelly (I'm not allowed/too poor to get cash :c) So I slaved myself trying to get her as soon as possible. xD  
LOL. Do you really? Does anyone else do that? xD;;  
Ohh~ Well, I'm glad you feel that you can review DT every chapter! It really makes me happy to hear from all the reviewer /hands gold star _

_MelenMelon: Ahh, no, I'm not xD;; It's the readers that give such amazing feedbac  
Lol~ Yes, they do indeed!  
I shall u v u  
Aawelgkas oh please you flatter me! I'm really not all that good u/v/u I actually suck at battle scenes lD But I will do my best c:  
Hmm~ Well, I won't give a big spoiler, but the mentors might be fighting in one or two chapters c:  
Hmm, good question xD;; I actually don't know.  
Lol~ Thank you so much! Though I'm really not. I will try my best to update!_

_Lucienteal: Awaeglsadg nono it's okay ;u;  
Aawegklsadgg its no pro you're pro I8  
/lets you hug/kidnap me/ u/v/u no stahp I'm not pro at all  
/revives you/ Non non non you are worthy I am not worthy of your pro u v u_


	38. Day 8

_Yeyy! Two updates in one day. Thank god for short chapters. xD _

_On a completely unrelated side note, Does anyone dislike the new follow/favourite button on fanfictiondotnet? It seems like they're encouraging favouriting without reviewing /:_

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Six: Day 8

"That was delicious," Saika, sitting next to him, smiles at Lass and Arme as she wipes her mouth with a napkin.

The purple haired girl, Arme, nodded as she finished her chicken, setting down the silverware with a satisfied smile. "Thank you for treating us to such a delicious meal," she says shyly, gesturing to their table filled with plates of food and desserts.

"No problem," he smiles back kindly. "Today's practice went well and I thought you guys deserved something sweet."

Arme laughed, beginning to start on her chocolate cake. "Yes! You even know how to use a staff, Brendan. How are you so amazing?" she exclaimed.

Said male just laughed, embarrassed at being thought so highly of. "It's nothing, really. I pick up bits and parts of different weapons here and there."

Arme stared at him, her violet eyes wide, delicious cake forgotten. "Can you really do that? I'm so jealous! You must've won your Games so easily, then!" she exclaimed without thinking.

Lass looked up from his pie consumption as Saika stiffened and stared at Brendan from the corners of her eyes.

Arme seemed to realize her mistake a little too slowly. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…" she trailed off, voice fading when no one made any effort to speak.

Sensing the fall in mood, Brendan forced on a smile. "Naw, it's alright. Yeah, I did win my Games fairly easily. I didn't have to suicide,"

Saika ignored him, opting to poke at her éclair instead, while Lass and Arme looked confused.

"Inside joke," Brendan chucked. "You'll understand if you win and become a mentor. We'll let you in on all our secrets." He got up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to head off now. I'll let Saika take you to your rooms. Happy Chase Games!"

With those words said, Brendan didn't loiter around. Heading to the training area, his face changed from his normal, carefree expression to one of complete firmness, ready for combat.

As soon as he hops over the gate, he heads to the weapon rack. Millions of weapons in all different varieties, sizes, and material lined the shelves, each and every one polished until they shone in the dim moonlight, ready for use.

Distracted, he took a simple rapier from its velvet lined case and drew the shining steel blade out, looking at it intensely. He saw his own serious face reflected back at him, the steel of the sword fresh and so clean it could double as a mirror. But this rapier would only be stained with red blood, scarlet liquid that spattered onto the iron, threatening to rust. The only air it would breathe would be the heat of battle, the glazed dusty air that was splotched with cries of pain and death. The soft beauty of the steel and carved edge would only be seen inches before death came and took its toll.

Sighing, he grabs the weapon and heads onto the training arena, slicing up the straw dummies. He soon fell into a rhythmic pattern, cutting as heaps of straw danced around him and painted heads fell to the ground with chips of metal targets.

As he fought, Brendan thought. He thought of how strange it was; that he'd be here, right now, slashing open dolls in such a pattern that it was almost elegant. Such luxuries were not available in the arena. Once you got a weapon in your hands, you aimed to kill. Kill or be killed was the only rule there, and one that everyone, no matter what, had to follow.

He himself was a victim of this rule. Perhaps that was why he always was eager to learn about any kind of weapon. People thought him bloodthirsty, wanting to get more battle than he had already experienced. In truth, it wasn't because they were deadly weapons made for battle. He didn't want to battle nor spill blood, in fact, he didn't want to ever be in a life-or-death situation ever again. The only reason he loved weapons so much was because he found them beautiful, each and every one of them having specialized moves, spells, ways to use them effectively. He wanted to prove to people, to _himself _that weapons could be used for more than just mindless murder, that they could be used for good and a better future.

Which was why he was joining this rebellion.

* * *

_Short chapter omfg. I can't write long chapters now. ;_; _

_CrimsonFlarez: Lol~ And you will have more! C:  
Oh, she isn't? She's on vacation, correct? Well, tell her that I hope she has a wonderful vacation and to have fu She can always read DT when she gets back!  
Ahaha. Fata Lunevis Fan? GOhs, I feel so loved /v/ Thank you very much, both of yo  
Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy it so much. I will do my best to update!_

_Snowskeeper: YES THE MENTORS.  
Smiley face potato things? What are those?  
Who says she doesn't? c:  
Kae is nice C8  
I saw that o n o  
RESPONSESSS.  
Ohh, I see. So kinda like that "strength bows to wisdom" thing. That's cool! o u o But I wouldn't worry about Acho being violent. If Acho grew violent, Lucas would shoot him in the head. llD  
LOLOL. I guess that would work? But then there'd be no Chase Games. xD  
OUUUOOO but no, it's really not. It's just a lot more confusing. xD  
LOLOLwhut—the guy you never met as in shinedown or Xion?  
LOLol. omg yes. Elesis this is all your fault :c Who's Dave?  
Really? Thank you very much, then! I actually have a binder full of notes for DT llD I prefer to do things by hand~  
LOLOL. yes, yes c: Bring me to life, my good man.  
/gives star/ /pats/ such is the life of first-reviewers._

_WinterBarrows: Acho: Y-You're trying to strangle me!  
Don't worry about hurting Acho C8 I fully support Acho Abuse.  
Awaelkhgsg no if this story was how to write angst then angst would be really really bad and not angst at all and nooby.  
Keyboard, shadapp and go home. You are drunk.  
More like Kieran's cool and I make him a dweb llD I can't pro it's too hard  
Then perhaps someday I'll see your name on the New York Times Bestsellers list! C:  
I understand llD" I can only write for GC as well. Originals are just too hard!  
, we shall do that.  
LOLOL. Poor, poor teammates.  
Amg seriously. Can I has your Dio please? My Dio is such a noob since I really can't play him. The last time I did, Sirenys laughed, I was that bad. llD"  
Basically, it's a pairing where all the suffering and dead characters of fiction come back alive and go to a magical island and party and be happy and stay ALIVE.  
Oh god, I know. It's just…no.  
YEEE! /gives gold star and highfives/  
YES YES. I call Dio/SLAPPED  
LOL. I SHALL. /grabs cape/ SHIPPIIIIIIIIINNNNGGGGGG.  
LOLOLOLOL.  
But that sounds like we're degrading a heart :c ffdotnet, wrai?  
LOL. Oh well c: I'm not bothered, so why should you be? C:_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: It is! I loved deep impact. xD I normally use the battle staff with either the staff or alchemist pot as weapon switch equip, since staff skills are awesome and alchemist can hea  
Aw ;_; really? Those skills sound so much cooler. xD  
Aw ;_; /pats  
Oh gosh xD;; Well, don't starve yourself too much! I can understand, though. I want cash to get Lime so badly ; n ;  
Oh my gosh o_o' that's crazy. People sure can play these days!  
Aww~ I used to do everything with Sirenys, but she quit, so now I have Melen and my other GC friends, but it's still not the same. xD _

_Sirenys: Aawegkasg no no that's okay ;u;  
LOl. Maybe c: And no it's not pro I can't do justice to your pro OC water u talking about  
Aalkwegs no no /v/ It's not that good okay  
Ikr :c LOLOL /gives you another gold star/ Good good, become my loyal faithful dtimerian minion/SLAPPED  
LOLOL. _


	39. Day 9

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Day 9

"Giou, think about it." Luminous golden eyes plead, staring into the taller male's own cyan eyes. "This could change everything."

Giou sighed, arms crossed as he stared down at the begging figure. "I already told you, Aalis. My answer is no. No matter what, the only thing this 'rebellion' of yours will change is leadership. The Chase Games will remain."

"You don't know that," the other argued, sounding exasperated as if they'd already had this conversation millions of times before. "Lady Kaze'aze promised that the heir she has in mind won't do that."

"Aalis, how many times do I have to tell you? I don't trust that Kaze'aze woman as far as I can throw her. You're all gullible idiots."

Aalis was quiet, and Giou leaned back and waited, uncaring.

"Fine," when Aalis speaks, his voice is deadly calm and unusually low. "When the time comes, don't die."

Giou just smiles, knowing his upset little brother. "Wouldn't count on it."

"If you do die, don't hold it against me," Aalis continues, strumming his guitar gently.

His brother smirked. "Rather you than anyone else."

Aalis began to head for the doior, aiming to take out his frustration on a few training dummies. "Think about it, Giou."

"I have thought about it," Giou replies back, quickly and monotonous. "I don't want anything to do with this 'Kanavan Project'."

Aalis just nodded, expecting the answer. He looked Giou in the eyes, his one golden eye mournful. "Bye, then."

Giou inclined his head, waiting for Aalis to go. Like that, the two brothers separated.

_~Dangerous Times~_

The next day of training, Giou was distracted. He knew the scarves were from the Kanavan Project, but it bothered him that Sieghart had no scarf. Was Sieghart meant to win, then? How could the Kanavan Project possibly know that?

Thinking about it, Giou realized some of the other tributes didn't have scarves either. If he remembered correctly, it was Elesis from One, Sieghart from Three, and Mari from Five. Were these tributes all possible 'heirs' to the Kanavan Project's plan?

Giou really didn't care what those idiots were up to, but if they were planning to screw with Serdin and blame it on the mentors, they had to be stopped. No matter what Aalis said, Giou still didn't trust the cunning woman known as Kaze'aze in the least. Whatever she thought behind those cold crimson eyes Giou wanted to know.

A crash from his right makes the mentor spin around to see SIeghart lying in the rubble of wood and dirt.

"The Soluna's heavy," the Prime Knight smiled sheepishly.

Giou just shook his head. "You're heavy. Now get back to work."

"What if I slice Kieran open by mistake?"

"You won't get close enough to do that," From the other side of the training arena, the necromancer stood with a small dagger clutched tightly in his hands. Kieran looked rather pathetic compared to Sieghart's large and decorated Soluna, the necromancer's skull and staff lying on the sidelines. GIou has insisted they work on frontal combat today, because Kieran couldn't stand around and wait for people to start dying before becoming useful.

"Then he'll use his whatever magic to bring himself back," Giou replied back. "That or he dies and you have one less opponent. Win-win. Now get back to work."

Sieghart grumbled something and used his Soluna to hoist himself up, then suddenly lunged at Kieran. However, the necromancer saw the attack coming and blocked it with his dagger, slipping out from underneath Sieghart to trip him. The Prime Knight caught himself just in time and spun around using the hilt of the Soluna, the blade stabbed into the earth. He landed a square kick in Kieran's stomach and the male went flying backwards, landing with a thump on the dirt.

"Draw blood!" Giou called, and both tributes—Kieran groaning—looked up and stared. The mentor just sighed and resumed his activity of doing nothing, his USB tail whisking as he watched the two fighting tributes, both hesitant at real battling.

However, Giou was slightly worried, for both of them. Kieran was a mage, and from his olive green scarf, the odds didn't look too good. As for Sieghart, if the male was to be a Victor, then he'd have to watch all the others die first, and that would land a deep impact on the male for sure.

Giou was torn between saving Kieran, who was dead for sure, or preparing Sieghart, who had a heck of a journey ahead.

* * *

_Yet another short chapter hits the sack. Oops. I swear, I'm hitting author blocks like crazy lately. _

_Review Replies: _

_3Complete3: (First Review):  
Thank you so much! u v u  
LOL. Oh no, I actually get this question a lot, so I'm going to make it clear here: No, I don't write anything in advance. I just write and post c: And I guess I'm a fast updater since I don't have much of a life and I'm eager to answer all the reviews, haha. I also have people spamming me for new updates, so that helps too c:.  
(Second review) :  
Mmhmm! Love my tension.  
Ahh~ So you like ArmeXLass? I do to As I said before, I'll ship anything that's good. xD_

_MelenMelon: Yes, I di  
Ohh, thank you so much!  
LOL. Oh noes! D8 I shall, ASAP!_

_WinterBarrows: YES REBELLION. Here have more rebellion/throws this chapter at you/  
I do too! I love weapon But that doesn't mean I want to start World War III or anything. xD;;  
I should really write longer chapters xD;; But long chapters are hard ; n ;  
I—I don't even know. Perhaps he got lucky? llD  
Yes we will support Acho Abuse to our graves. /slapped  
Nonon my angst is far from that.  
LOL. Alrighty, sounds good! But Kieran should be pro too. We can form a circle of pro and summon the pro god. u v u  
You must believe /sparkles/ And oh gosh, no. xD;; The world will end if one of my originals got accepted into publishing, much less making it onto that list. xD  
Ermaigehd. Level 70. How did you do that? My Dio is only 31, it's so sad. xD;;  
LOLOl. So they all become happy in the end?  
DEM GOLD STARS. I SHALL HAND OUT GOLD STARS TO EVERYON  
So we currently have a swearing demon and raging immortal in our closets. Life is guuud. /slapped  
Of course I would get the joke! I don't stalk the internet all day for nothing/SLAPPED  
Ffdotnet, wrai? This is an outrage I8  
Alrighty, sounds good c:_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: Same, same! Seems that great minds think alike u v u  
Oh, really? I'm so jealous! I want Lime so badly.  
LOL. I have Am But I never use her. I guess she's alright. xD  
Oh gosh. You're so lucky to have a friend like that!  
Ohh~ it's always great when you have gaming buddies! I have a lot of couples on Grand Chase, so I mostly play with them u v u  
Oh my, that sounds wonderful! I wish I could join you guys, that really does sound awesome.  
Oh, you were talking about how you read some of my other review replies and I asked if anyone else did. xD _


	40. Day 10

_Alrighty, next chapter. C:_

_Acho is next, oh dear. xD_

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Day 10

Selena knew it wasn't right.

Rules, regulations. Expectations to live up to the population of the _things _on her back. Questions about her existence. Comments slung over shoulders about her victory. Accusations of favourism in the skies.

All her life she had grown up to listen to the preaching of aged scholars, to take the unusual adornments on her back as a blessing. She was truly one of a king, an angel from above.

Still, being told she was special didn't make her feel special. People saw through her, eyes adverting to her glossy feathers than her hurt eyes. They approached her due to her pretty face opposed to personality. Suitors came for her reputation, her body, more than her traits and quirk that set her as a person.

Perhaps that's why she began the mockery, the tricks. To prove that she was memorable as a person rather than simply being beautiful. That she wasn't the storybook angel of virtue. That she could be normal.

And that's what began to make her shatter, more and more.

She used to have everything. A beautiful image. Thousands of suitors. Amazing friends.

Why had she not seen that?

Sooner or later, everyone began to disappear. Be it when she played a prank, or simply when she rejected them, coldly and swiftly, but they began to avoid her. She was no longer the life of the party, but the one not invited. The eruption that had followed her victory faded until people got tired of her, moving onto the next big thing. Even being beautiful didn't help that, though it could slow it.

She didn't see what she had before wishing for more.

So when he appeared, she realized that, to him, she wasn't the suffering, lonely person she'd become. He accepted her, accepted her and all of her tricks and taunts, and together they'd made a system where the both of them could be happy. They still had faults, of course, and faults lead to fights, but there was one thing that couldn't be changed.

Selena and Zeta were positively in love with each other.

Looking back, Selena realized that even being an 'angel', she couldn't escape the game that was life. The stakes were raised, fortune spun. She fell in love. The gates closed. Her love was going to die, like it or not.

Not everyone got a happy ending, and that was the truth. Selena and Zeta had faults. He was too quiet, she never admitted her feelings, and fights ended in clashes. Love made the world go around, but most time it wasn't fair. She might not suffer as much as the other tributes or mentors, but she was still hurting.

They couldn't fight back, not against the tide that was fate. It was only the two of them, with their backs against the world, bearing the oncoming slaughter.

Two would become one, soon.

But he wouldn't be completely gone, oh no. She'd see his face when she went to bed, hear his voice quiet at night, feel his strong, beating heart with that doomed secret against her timid, blonde head.

All good things came to an end, and not everyone got happy endings. There were still the bittersweet memories that remained.

Selena knew it was wrong, but they'd make it through.

* * *

_Ermaigehd. So, being the complete, utter idiot I am, I realized I didn't reply to all the reviews last chapter. Sirebrokoro and Snowskeeper, I am so, so sorry. I'll do them this chapter!_

_Sirebrokoro: :CC  
Lolwhut—Is it that funny?  
Nonono bad crappy failure angst everywhere.  
LOLOL. Sorry, Snowskeeper, but yesu ou o You can have all of Snowskeeper's stars if you get first review despite the timezone  
Aalkehglwelg no I didn't I made her into crap she was so pro before sobs  
You—you do—that—Seriously, what's with reviewers and hoarding stars?_

_Snowskeeper: LOLOL. I'd pay to have more of that program. C:  
Inspirational bribery c:  
R3V13W R3SPONS3:  
Ergehd. Dahlia smile? And no, I actually don't know those things and I don't think I want to llD  
Pftt—Face it, Arme's stupid/deep impacted/  
Well, I was more stealthy! /glares/ /stealthily/  
LOL. Maybe not c: God I swear there are so many Acho jokes floating around.  
LOLOL. OMFG. LucasXAcho.  
No no, not that I know of. Basically, Acho's an insecure loser. lD  
What if I told you there is no Chase Games/slapped  
DEM CHOICES. THEY'RE EVERYWHERE.  
Aw. Well, if you stopped doing creepy voodoo rituals on them, I'm sure it'll be a lot easier!  
Ermaigehd. Sieg and Zero are related and Sieg stole Elesis' girl? Then Arme got sober and killed everyone, Elesis hugged her, and then Arme got Elesis/Sieg's girl drunk?  
Who would be Terezi in this mess, hmm…  
Speaking of Homestuck and GC, Sirenys and I were talking, and we came up with Diodan and Zeroeri and Sieglux. Diodan and Zeroeri were in love, but Sieglux swooped in and stole Zeroeri, so Diodan got mad :c  
LOLOLWHUT—I do everything by hand. xD  
Slytherin!  
LOL. That's a good idea. u vu _

_ShakyHadesPhantomhive: Yesu! u v u oh gosh. That's crazy! xD Good luck to him, then!  
Aw ;u; you guys sound so amazing. She sounds like such a good friend!  
Same, same here D8 None of my old GC friends play anymore, and it kinda sucks. NAGC is going down on player rate ; w ;  
True, true enough!  
Ah, I see! Well, that makes sense. xD Considering some of my reviews consist of me shouting 'SEXUAL TENSION' in caps, it makes sense. llD_

_Snowskeeper: Fak u physics. Umumumumumum. Maybe he managed to stop it for a few seconds and then ducked and ran? Idek ;_; I'd like to get my hands on some swords for realistic battling writing practice, but I don't know any place to get one…  
Oh no, by all means, point out my flaws! I'm not even joking xD; Please do. They can only make me improve u v u  
LOL—Right on what?  
Gioun Snow? I haven't watched/read Game of Thrones, yet ; A ; I saw it at the bookstore and was going to get it, but I settled for some historical fiction instead. I love my historical fiction u vu  
I—I think it's the traditional type. I'm not too sure, you'll have to ask the creator of his pro, WinterBarrows. u vu _

_CrimsonFlarez: I—I have people threatening me/begging me to update, so that's how. xD;  
Mmhmm! Thank you, I'm very glad you think s _

_MelenMelon: Awaegklsdg no don't cry /strokes your face ;_;  
Nononoon amazing with words? How? Where? I'm a royal derp with words.  
Hahah nope something will happen c:  
D8 my poor skype.  
Amazing? The only amazing person I see is yo  
/pats your feelings/ There, there ;u;_

_hardcoreGSfan: Awalkeghsg hi welcome back! /hands gold star/ uv u  
Thank you ;u;  
Alrighty, good! /happy dances_

_Siregomen: no no it's okay thanks for reviewing!  
LOLOL. Do you? Maybe I changed something c:  
Aawelkghssg no no I suck at battle scenes._

_XxcrystalzxX: Ohh~ Welcome back! I hope you had fun c:  
I know ; w ; As I've said, I find it a bit difficult to write a lot when I'm only covering the basics of a person. Don't worry, once the Chase Games starts, there'll be long chapters! C:  
Wait, really? O-o What kind of spoilers? I'm really careful about my notes and what I put in review replies…Or are you talking about the reviews themselves? _


	41. Day 11

_Alrighty! Next update. This one's a bit late, I apologize lD I've been slaving myself and finally got Evoker for Ley! Though it's not much since I build my Ley strictly on dungeoning, it's still fun to get a new job C8 I just can't wait for Dark Origin/Empress of Darkness. Dat field kill. Dat summon. Dat dress. Dat everything. _

_Well, you probably don't read this to watch me fangirl about Ley. I don't know why, there's just something I really love about Ley's clothes and personality. She's not your typical female heroine or loli, and that's what I adore. C8_

_Either way, a note before this chapter starts. I kinda feel like I'm making Acho really special by giving him angst ;_; I also cannot write males in character for crap lD_

_Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I present Acho, my cowardly, lazy, afraid of water good at knots sailor. How that works, I'm still debating lD_

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Day 11

Heat and water.

The two things he never wanted to see or feel against his body or in his mind ever again. Even clothed in full-on body armor and metal gloves, he couldn't stand the strange, nausea that heat gave him, nor the sound of water splashing, tiny droplets so deadly.

It was ironic, really. Like all young boys, Acho had grown up with a gaudy, inappropriate dream. He wanted to be a sailor. Someone who swore a line of curses as he raised the mast, had a girl on one arm and booze in the other, hardened muscles flexing in the light of midday, beat into place by the challenges of the sea. Even in the land-surrounded, job-proclaimed land of District Five, he had that dream and never given up on it.

Looking at himself, he wasn't much. Ever since his Games—to which he had no idea how he'd won, personally, he should've been dead at first day—he always looked thin, too thin. He was unkempt and scrawny, weak and lame, disheveled from lack of washing and care. They had to strap him down when he needed a shower, dull his senses with drugs so he wouldn't' freak out at the sound of water, water, clear and blue, sustaining life but also taking it away. He hated the feeling of water in his lungs, covering up his oxygen, choking him no matter how much he gasped and begged, because there was no one to beg, only the sound of crashing waves and sea foam surrounding him, enveloping him, waiting to wash his dead body, wasted away by the sea and its creatures.

All around the tides crashed, merciless in their beating of his limp, floating body, his lungs and mouth desperately working for air though his mind had gone numb. The water's realm was wide, Mother Nature's powers unstoppable. This happened to a lot of tributes each year, and every year it didn't make it any less worse.

Acho sat up, panting, a makeshift blanket covering his lower half. Looking around, he ran a hand through his sweaty, matted brown hair, and realized he was on the couch of the main lodge. How did he get here?

He sucks in a breath—yes, he can _breathe—_and tried to remember the events of last night, groaning as he did so.

"Right," he muttered halfheartedly, to no one at all—who ever listened to him? "That water dream."

He remembers it all vividly. Every night, he'd return from training Mari and squeaking at Zero's death glares, to a room that he was never comfortable in, the bed covered with layers of dust and small spiders—whenever he tried to tell Arcana to control those things, he'd end up running away—and, after some time spent twiddling his thumbs and beating himself up mentally, he'd get up and head outside just as everyone retired to bed, and wander aimlessly around. It was the same routine every time; he'd knock on Sharrif's door first, and basically fling himself at the female, begging her to just sleep in the same bed with him. But of course, it was Sharrif, and the female wasn't exactly the type to lend a caring hand to an awkward request. She'd either pull him in for a few steamy hours of lovemaking—to which he hesitantly replied—then throw him out, or slam the door in his face, occupied with another toy. Either way, it ended with him wandering around again like a lost, unwanted puppy, over to Lucas's room. He'd knock and the tiggerhappy mentor would shoot, causing Acho to jump and flee. The night would end with him simply dropping asleep from exhaustion, either in a velvet armchair or outside on the porch.

Though it was an age-old ritual, Acho never completely got used to it. He always felt so unneeded, as if he could randomly die one day and no one would care. They'd put the wrong name on his tombstone and let him rot away, deep in the dirt with no one to care. He was the third wheel; someone used and tossed when needed, not much more than an appliance. He kept silent about most of his worries and doubts, but there was something that would constantly plague his mind, remind himself about what he really was and the kind of person he had once aspired to be.

He was pathetic.

* * *

_Review Replies~_

_Snowskeeper: You don't get a first reviewer star because you keep stealing everyone else's stars o n o  
Oh, I see then. xD;  
LOLOL. Remember what we discussed about good social skills? D8  
Review Response Response Response:  
RIGHT. That word, sidestep! Thank you so much that describes it perfectly. Gosh I need to update my vocabulary.  
Ahh, I see! Thanks so much. That'll help greatly in future chapters.  
But she could also write what she said dow  
/hands you monopoly money and claps/ More, more! 8D  
LOL. Well, it's happened. Oh, if only the mentors bribed people with cake. "Come to the Kanavan side, we have cake!"  
So Zero would be Zeroeri and Zeroirk? Legit.  
/hands you Slytherin robes/  
Knight Master? Or Elesis?  
Sirenys always tells me to switch to online notebooks and such, but I find it much easier to write, as well as classic and relaxing. My hand doesn't agree, however. Dx /hand cramps/ Plus, I love using different pens ouo  
Why do you have more stars than you had a second ago?  
Pftt—yes, and they will all sing to victory.  
Alrighty~  
LOLOL._

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: /gasps/ How dare they? D8 I was tricked by Elsword and MapleStory for a while, but GC will always be precious to me u v u.  
Oh no, it's okay! Thank you for reviewing first! u v u /hands gold star  
Oh god I know ;_; Ley mission was torture. I'd love to play with you, but I probably won't understand the language. xD  
Alright c: Me and my bad jokes shall take over ffdotnet 8D The Fata Lunevis Jokes Army!/shot  
Ohh, you have mostly the same ships as me! And, good, glad that I'm not alone .I'll still write/read it, but I can't ship shippings like LimeXRufus or RinXAsin fully yet xD I need some time to get used to them first.  
I don't really have any strong ships in Black Butler xD; It's been a while since I watched/read any anime/manga.  
Ohh ;u; I watched the first episode and I absolutely loved it! I'm going to start watching it right after I finish Criminal Minds u vu  
Ohh, alrighty then! If you're so excited about it, I'll trust your judgment, I'm sure it's goo I'll check my library and read it after I'm finished Eragon!  
Yes, that's the right form u vu  
No, I actually haven't ;_; Is it good?  
Alrighty~! I thought they would be kinda boring, but it's good to know that you're enjoying the Thank you so much!_

_Sireangry: LOLOL. /pats/ Don't worry, he has enough stars. /gives star  
Haha no it was failed bad angst.  
I'm sure okay describing is hard ; n ;  
LOLOL. Who says I did? C:  
Awalgkashg no my battle scenes are short and defy the laws of physics lD_

_MelenMelon: Awalkhas no you're the amazing one—  
I can't romance for crap YOU teach ME.  
Nono don't cry D8  
Lolnope Melenpro is pro and Fata Derpvis is a derp.  
NONONO/pats your heart/ ; n ;  
D8 /dies/  
/pats your feelings/ ; nn;;_

_WinterBarrows: (first review):  
Alright  
LOLOLOLIKR. Sieg, what are you gonna do when Kieran dies? D8  
And no the chapter wasn't amazing you're amazing u v u  
LOLOMFG. Sieg, the Prime Knight in shining armor, and Kieran, the necromancer in distress.  
Okay yes you understand my pain long chapters ;n ;  
LOLYES. That's actually what I was planning. Or maybe everyone was attacked by mutts and he climbed up a tree or something? xD;; Idek. He probably just got lucky o u o  
Your somewhat angsty Acho Abuse you shall have OUO  
/sets up pro offerings and prepares to hike to the pro temple/  
LOLno I need pro blessings to not faint from your vast amounts of pro.  
Ergehd. xD LOLOLOL. Omfg. I know. Sirenys kicks butt with her Amy and heals all over the place, while I kinda just float around with my Ley and wait for my AP to charge. Ley has horrible defense and I don't have 4__th__ skill yet, but I still love to use her ;u;  
Yes, Dio has a fine ass. Walk into da club be like Dio MARRY ME NOW  
There's always gotta be death in everything ; n ; Why can't everyone just be happy ; n ;/This is ironic/  
/dances with you/ /Looks like two crazy fangirls/ /Party!/  
yes please/SLAPPED  
(second review)  
I was smiling when I read that and like "oh stahp it you /v/" until I read the SiegXKieran bit. Then I fell down laughing and got Vaseline in my eye :c  
/v/ Oh stahp it you /v/ Thank you so much!  
Everyone dies or is already dead. Physically or mentally C8  
ACHO ABUSE. ACHO ABUSE!/chants/ /Throws more Ach abuse at you/  
Acho: ; n ;…/unsure to love the attention or sob/  
/sticks gold star on forehead/ CCC8_

_XxcrystalzxX: Ermaigehd. I would drop and faint from happiness if DT reached 300 reviews.  
It—It is. So sorry about that llD Hopefully this chapter was slightly better?  
Ohh. Well, yeah, you're right, that is a spoiler xD;; I'll be sure to be careful from now on! Thanks! C: _


	42. Day 12

_It recently came to my attention (I know, I know, I'm slow ;_; ) that review replies take up 3/4s of the chapter.  
…Gosh, now I feel really bad. You guys probably don't read DT to see me chatting, so I'll be trying to make the chapters longer now! C8_

_Either way, recently, I began to read Eragon and holy cod that book. The description makes me want to sit down and weep over the book and stroke its pages. It's amazing. o A o But now I feel like DT is crap llD""_

_I think that, after DT finishes, I'll release some bonus chapters, such as one of Kaze'aze and another for Duel/Void. What do you guys think? c:_

* * *

Chapter Forty- Day 12

"Imbecile," Lucifer speaks bluntly as Ley floats in to the training stadium, the female's long pink hair trailing behind.

Ley bristles, her usually calm pose broke by Lucifer's neverending onslaught of insults.

"Excuse me?" she demands.

Lucifer stares at her, a small pout on a childish face made with ruby red lips. "I said you're stupid."

Ley stares at the mentor, feeling the intense urge to murder the little brat, here and now. Dio was right; he was nothing but an immature delinquent.

She huffs and teleports to where Dio stands, rigid with that unchanging scowl etched on his sharp features. Crossing her long, shapely legs, she glares in Lucifer's direction.

"Brat," she notes.

DIo just nods absentmindedly, horns bobbing up and down.

Not pleased at being ignored, Ley continued to ramble. "How did someone like him win, anyways? He's so small and physically weak. Crime and Punishment, what a joke," Ley rolls her eyes, floating higher in the air.

Dio nodded again, seemingly engrossed in his own thoughts.

Still, Ley was determined to get a reaction from the male demon, and started to poke him, teleporting with lightning fast speed, making a joke of her fighting abilities, back and forth.

"What are you doing?" Dio snapped finally.

Ley smirked, content at getting a reply.

"Wanting to talk," she replied, leaning back in the air and using her normal, cool and seductive tone. "Listen to me."

"Shouldn't you be training?" Dio refused to give into the female's coy, stingy urges.

"With him?" Ley scoffed at Lucifer, who sat on a bench nearby, violet eyes gazing off to no particular point.

"Yes."

Ley pouted, using Lucifer's exact expression, bored at the male's lack of interest in her. Instead, she floated over to their mentor, finally deciding to give training a shot.

"I'm here," she yawned, "enlighten me."

Lucifer stared at her, so innocent at first appearance with those big amethyst eyes, and Ley thinks that she would actually like the kid—despite what anyone said, she liked children, _somewhat_—if he wasn't so desperately rude.

"I don't wish to teach the likes of you," Lucifer says with obvious disdain. "Go battle."

"That may be Dio's vile sport," Ley replied, unconcerned, "but women of the Crimson River tribe prefer to watch, not fight like barbarians."

"Smug." Lucifer matched her even tone. "You're so high and mighty, aren't you? Consider yourself above the rest of us and ultimate ruler of the world," he spat.

"That is Dio," Ley checked her nails. "I simply comment on what is true."

Lucifer ignored her words, continuing on. "Listen here, princess. You're in Serdin. Your titles and beauty means nothing here. You're nothing but a piece in the Games," he hissed, his violet eyes flashing. And for a second the small child grew into something bigger, a terrible being with wings reflecting the flames of his realm, his power and simple image terrifying to stand against, and those same, cold violet eyes piercing into the soul.

"You can go teleport, back to that silly little tribe of yours, back to your room and servants, but the gulit and sorrow will always follow. Run if you desire, but emotions will always catch up to you," the male's voice lowered, deadly soft. "And you can't do anything about it."

Ley was struck, frozen in her sudden terror, unexplainable and inescapable.

"Are you trying to say something?" she narrowed luminous turquoise eyes, fighting her voice to keep steady.

Lucifer leaned back, once again the blinking, glassy-eyed youth. "Take it as you will. It doesn't matter," he smirked and waved to the scarf around her neck. "The demon will come all the same."

After his speech, Lucifer wandered over to Dio, still standing firmly. Ley was shocked, frozen in place, and once she regained control she teleported out of there, as fast as she could, with a sudden sob.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Why had Lucifer's words upset her so much?

That's the first question that crosses Ley's mind. And it didn't make sense, either. His little speech about dying and guilt and sorrow hadn't upset her at all, even though the female demon knew that was the cruel mentor's intention. Actually, it was his earlier words; the ones about being nothing. She had managed to put it off before now, but Lucifer had just slapped it in her face all over again.

He was right. She was nothing here. Her rank as a princess, special offers, and people bowing down before her was over. Now, she was thrown aside like a commoner, guided around like a dumb servant girl.

She couldn't rely on others to help her through the Games, now. She was all alone, in a place where she meant nothing, and with no one to guide her.

What was she to do?

_~Dangerous Times~_

Ley didn't know what drew her to that place. It was certainly a place that she had never imagined she'd ever go, much less on her own free will.

The streets were ashen, dotted with begging homeless with scraps of clothing and clamped, messy hair. A smell rose from the broken down, abandoned buildings and disarrayed streets, contaminated fountains that had been once laced with gold and bronze—no doubt stripped away by starving civilians to pawn for food—adding onto the depressing atmosphere.

After her strange little talk with Lucifer, Ley had teleported outside the castle to clear her mind. She was glad she had the use of magic; such a feat would be impossible otherwise, with such astringent peacekeepers about.

Still, she felt a strong need to be away from it all; away from the brawl of drunken Serdin nobles and gloom of all the tributes. So she'd wandered without any destination, heading down a couple unfamiliar streets and attracting strange looks, ducking into an alley that seemed abandoned at first glance.

Turns out, it wasn't and she found him there.

At first sight, he wasn't much. Just another unlucky Serdin citizen huddled up in the corner, trying to warm himself in the evening's chill.

She turned away; ready to leave, when he stopped her.

"Wait. Don't go."

His voice was raspy and brittle, like thin ice lightly stepped on.

"Pardon me?" she inquired.

"I know I was wrong," he begged. "It was my fault. I never should've let you go."

Ley stepped back, alarmed. Was he drunk, or delusional?

Matted, dirty hair tumbled from the man's wrappings, and desperate _pink _eyes flashed out. "Please," he repeated. "Don't go."

"You've confused me for someone else," she says icily. "I don't know you."

"Please!" he began to shout. "Edna, don't leave me again!"

Ley stopped. Edna. Where had she heard that name before?

"I have money," the man continued, half crazed. "I don't look like much but I have everything we could need, Edna. Come with me. We'll go back to Elyos. We'll start anew. Serdin won't want my head for murder anymore. Anything and everything you want, Edna, I'll give it to you!

Ley turned around, the spark of a small idea beginning in her head. She smiled, her full red lips turning upwards into a devilish smirk. "How much money do you have?"

The man blinked.

"I said—"

"Gold. Lots of gold."

Ley's eyes widened and a small, wretched plan formed in her mind. Perhaps Lucifer was wrong after all. Perhaps she had sponsors, and, if it all worked accordingly, weapons. Human weapons, bought and used.

"Oh," she gasped and surged forwards, stroking the man's covered cheek. She pulled down the faded red cloth and was pleased to find the man was not all that bad looking; with an angular face, sharp features—much like Dio, she thinks, amused—and glowing pink eyes with narrow eyebrows. Dirt smudged his cheek and overgrown stubble, probably from lack of care she thinks as she brushes it away, and reminds herself that can be easily remedied if she got him to believe she was actually Edna.

His hand gripped hers, pink eyes staring intensely.

"Babe," she muttered. "It is you."

His eyes widened a grin split his solemn expression. "Edna, you remember me! You've changed, but I was right, you're not dead!"

Thinking quickly, Ley responded. "No, I'm not. But people think I am. I'm called Ley, now."

"Ley," his eyes seemed lost in thought. "Ley," he repeated.

"Yes," her mouth closed the gap between theirs before he could ponder it any further. "And I've got a problem."

He breathed as they separated, eyes closed, face set in a wild smile. With a sudden gasp of breath Ley realized she was leading this man on, turning his fantasizes into wilder fantasizes that would eventually lead to lies and downfall. She shook her head, reminding herself that it was either kill or be killed in her current situation.

"Anything for you," he replied, kissing her once more, rather eagerly.

"See, I need money," she began, thinking it was going perfectly, speaking more and more between kisses and tender touches.

_~Dangerous Times~_

When Dio opens the door, Ley isn't wearing a shirt.

She's bare-chested, snuggling deep into his covers.

"What are you doing?" he snarled, rushing forwards.

First mistake.

Ley grabs him and drags him onto the bed, pinning him under her small but surprisingly small body.

"I want you," she breathes, straight to the point.

Dio stares at her, certain she's lost her mind.

"You're kidding," he stated.

Second mistake.

Ley begins straight away, rubbing her body against his. "No."

Dio flushes, and the male can't believe he's here right now, trapped by Ley, doing _this._

"Get out," he commands, face red and angry.

"Why?" Ley purrs, seemingly content and with a smug expression.

"It's unlike you to suddenly find me so irresistible. What do you want?" Dio knows the female too well to fall to her tricks.

"Nothing." Ley looks at him through long purple eyelashes enveloping her face in a crescent shadow.

"You want something," he urges, nudging her away. "I know you."

"Do you?" she smiles lazily, amused.

DIo nods stubbornly, ignoring the female's knowing smirk. "Now leave."

Ley sighs. "There's no fooling you."

Dio smirked. So he had won. "What do you want, you little slut?"

"You."

Ley dragged the covers over them and erased the space between them, Dio too surprised to react.

_Weapon achieved._

* * *

_Wow I was really uncomfortable writing this chapter. I feel like I got Ley really, really OOC ;_;_

_Review Replies:_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: Oh gosh. I played League of Legends, once. Not really my thing, but I ADORE the storyline and character development/art.  
Oh gosh xD As exciting as that sounds, I'll have to pass, sorry ;_; The server would probably block me, either way.  
Oh gosh. Honestly, I can't see Zero with anyone canonically (unless you wanna talk yaoi ships/SLAPPED) and for the others…yeah, perhaps you're right. It is a little hard to see them together I8  
Ermaigehd, seriously? xD Oh gosh, then it must be GOOD.  
Lolwhut—why? You're a lovely person and I'm sure your tastes are amazing c:  
Oh gosh, really? Then I'll love it. I'm currently reading Eragon, and then description and detail is amazing.  
Ohh, I see! To be honest, I'm somewhat of a romantic, so I'll give it a try if I'm bored someday! C:  
LOL. Well, glad you want to see your reply so much! I love writing the review replie  
OH MY GOD LOLOLOLOLOLOL. Yes, yes, so true, my dear. /onrushed by Dio  
Awaklgasghsad nooo! Princess of Elyos sounds so royal and regal. Trade names maybe? C:_

_WinterBarrows: (First review)  
FEEL THE ACHO ABUSE OUO.  
Acho bruises from cuddling and snuggling too, so be careful ou o  
And pftt—Acho, adorable? Naw, mostly just pathetic. xD Oh Acho, I'm so mean to you xD  
LOLYES. Sieg shall sob in his corner as Dio and Zero duel the battle of ages over dead bodies.  
PLEASE D THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE. ESPEICALLY IF YOU'RE WRITING IT.  
Alwkhegs ikr? Long chapters are just…no. And the part about seeming to write forever but turns out it's only a few pages is so true, ermagehd. It doesn't help that I write in a super large font size, either. ;_;  
You write and you write and rack your brain for ideas and after it turns out its only like 2k words you just kinda wanna huddle up in the corner and give up this craft. ; n ;  
LOLYES. He was so pathetic he won.  
/sticks gold star on forehead/ 8DDD  
Lolno more like you were kind enough to bestow your pro on my crap excuse of a character.  
Oh god I know. Ley and her bossing is like awesom Actually, Ley's attack is awesome, but her defense makes me wanna cry. ;_;  
LOLOL. Well, I'll join you in having your last view as Dio's ass, since Sirenys plays MapleStory now ; n ; Atleast we have Diobutt to help us through this difficult time of friendships and betrayal and cheating and other games.  
And ermaigehd. I know no homo but Ley's fourth is like HHNNNNGGG CAN I HAS OKAY LEY YOU ARE ATTRACTIVE.  
Oh my gosh you're right. Harem marriage, have all of your fingers beaded with rings/SLAPPED  
LOLOLomfg. Can you imagine though.  
Just because you said that, I shall now use this as canon!/slapped/ No, just kidding. Maybe.  
YEEE. /throws all the leftover gold stars into the pool/ PARTY 8DD  
Oh my gosh LOL. I hope your two year old self wasn't too traumatized by that. xD And no, no Fata Lunevises were hurt in the act. xD I smear Vaseline over my eyelashes so I'm used to having Vaseline drip into my eyes by a faulty eyelash and running around at like 10:00 PM shouting "I'M BLIND HOW WILL I SEE MY FIRST BORN CHILD". Thank god it's not toxic or else I'd be blind a hundred times over. xD  
LOLOL. Is there something with you and campfires and hippie songs? xD But sure, sounds great! /picks up Zero/ You bring Dio!  
LOLYES. Aw Acho baby, don't cry D8 /pokes Acho in the eye/  
(second review)  
I thought you were drunk when I first saw the review in my inbox. xD  
I FIGHT FOR ACHO ABUSE. D8_

_SIrenys: Acho: Q A Q  
LOLOL/. And no I can't angst okay.  
LOLWELLUM—Let's not go there.  
ANDREW HUSSIE OF THE GC SECTION LOLOLOLOLOL.  
Behold, Sirenys.  
/throws all dem stars in your pool/ Just keep swimming, just keep swimming~  
LOLOL. See to that o u o  
GOD TO YOUR SATAN SIRENYS I AM LAUGHING SO HARD I JUST LIKE STABBED MYSELF WITH MY PEN LOLOLOL._

_Snwoskeeper:…O-Only you would think to say that. xD  
I'm sad to say I did not get that reference OTL /fails  
And why again are you burning effigies in my review section? xD  
Ermaigehd. I swear you're making author headcanons now. xD /turns air conditioning on/  
She might have a star of pools, but her pool of stars is empty o n o  
Maybe…make friends/a girlfriend? xD  
I think we all learned that a long time ago. You're one crazy 15 year old burning effigies everywhere and scorning social skills. xD  
I—I don't even know how to reply to that. xD Dem NPCs, always watching o n o  
Pft—so if you hand Jacky a biscuit, he'll be determined to win the Games?  
A-Also I don't know if I'm stupid or something and sorry for asking this for like the third time but is his name Jackie or Jacky? ;_; /has been spelling it as the first/ /Gosh if I get this stuff wrong you guys need to point it out I'm so sorry ; A ;/  
Diro sounds awesome ermaigehd.  
;_;; How come? Are you a squib? 8O  
Whomgl—What—  
LOLOL. Well, try, try harder C8  
LOL. Have fun with that. xD Though doesn't it mean you're like screaming short sentences across the reviewers cage?/SLAPPED_

_CrimsonFlarez: Oh no, it's okay! I hope you get all of that work don I'll wait! It sounds like a handful, oh my gosh xD. I recently got into the finals for public speaking and I've been practicing like no tomorrow, so I hardly have time to write anymore. D8  
Yes, I will! And lol, good suggestion. xD Hopefully this chapter is more to your liking!_

_XxcrystalzxX: Yep xD  
He probably could, but that'd take the fun out of it D8 /likes making OCs suffer/  
Oh gosh, that's a very good question xD;;; Erm…I'll—I'll have to think about that. Maybe he just eats fruits all day and remains dehydrated and very unhealthy?  
Oh gosh, that's happened to me too _ I absolutely hate it, the website is trolling us! D8 Well, thank goodness the review passed through in the end. u v u  
Yay~! I use wi-fi for my phone/iPad, so I can relate. When there's no wi-fi, I don't know what to d _


	43. Day 13

_Alrighty! Updating the next chapter c: _

_Also, I took a look at Game of Thrones when we stopped by a bookstore and awleghsakgd omfg those houses and quotes I WANNA READ IT SO BAD ;_; Unfortunately I couldn't get it, but I'll be hunting and stalking around the libraries for a few days. u v u _

_WinterBarrows: I took your suggestion 8D. Serdin now offers services for tributes. _

_-I know, I know lD the Kanavan Project is interfering too much. There's a reason for this, I swear, so please bear with me! C:_

* * *

Chapter Forty-One: Day 13

_ The flashing silver, clashes growing louder as blood splattered onto perfectly trimmed grass and noises of shouts and laughter mixed together, rising high into a sky darkened by the creeping edges of dusk and heated by human battle. The whirling of the cameras hidden inside mutated bird eyes, focused intensely with unblinking red light on the final three tributes. _

_ And the chants that repeated in her heads, louder and louder, blocking out the swords, telling her again and again that all her work was for naught, that she would die here and that would be it. _

_ Her own weapon lay useless; a simple bow she'd seen and grabbed when the horn blew and the Games started, now ripped to harmless wood splinters. She had no means to defend herself; they'd cut through her thin, wooden arrows in a second._

_ She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together tightly in her lap, sitting quietly and waiting for the final blow. This was it. She'd given up. Days of trekking through mud and woods threatening floods and mutt attacks, days of climbing the thinnest vines and walking across branches that could barely hold her weight to reach just a small handful of berries was all for nothing. That horror and success she'd felt when she first pierced the other tributes' neck with her arrows, tucked away safely in her haven of sturdy vines and leaves, hidden from all sight. The thoughts that flooded her mind each night as she slept with one eye open, memories of her family, hopes that she'd live this through and return safely to forget the ordeal with time had flooded her, keeping her senses sharp and hope alive. Just as she'd gotten so close, it was all over._

_ She waited, on and on, as a soft breeze blew by and touched her face, lifted up to the sky. Her heart pounded in her chest, fast and sudden, waves of panic washing up and down, waiting for that moment. What was death like? What was death like, knowing you were waiting for it? Knowing you were ready for it?_

_ Was she ready?_

_ Suddenly, the feeling of cold metal brushed her fingertips, and, against better judgment, she opened her eyes—just a little—and saw a small metal container in her lap. _

_ Her heart jumped, beating faster with new excitement. A sponsor gift! She picked up the tin and swiftly eyed it, looking for a tag, but there was no message, only a mysterious scent that she couldn't identify. _

_ Before the other tributes could see, she put the gift down, shuffled over so she hid it as well as she could, and unscrewed the lid._

_ It was liquid, coloured an ominous black. The scent that wafted from small bubbles lazily floating by was putrid, making her wrinkle her nose but open her eyes in wonder._

_ The swords fought, harder than ever, and one of the tributes was beginning to go down. Alarmed that she was running out of time, she held the liquid up, wondering what to do. Was it some kind of special oil that flamed whatever it touched? Did she dare throw it onto the other tributes and hope for the best? _

_ Her fingers brushed something inscribed on the bottom, carved inside the metal. Flipping it over—careful not to spill—she saw that they were words._

_ DRINK._

_ She was supposed to _swallow _it? What kind of joke was that? The drink didn't seem edible at all, taking the appearance of poison. _

_ One of the tributes fell from a sword to the neck, head rolling with a gruesome snarl onto the grass next to her. She jumped, looking up at the face of the remaining tribute, maimed and ugly, coming for her. She was out of time. Images—faces—flashed through her mind, of laughing Serdin nobles, of her crying parents, her worried brother. She wanted to go back to them, to ease away their fears and assure them she was alright, they didn't have to cry anymore, never again. _

_ She raised the container, and drank._

_~Dangerous Times~_

When she had opened her lips to allow the liquid passage, she certainly hadn't been thinking straight.

Arcana stands in a dusty corner of the training stadium she had long deemed hers. She was watching her two tributes—a pink haired female named Amy and red haired male named Jin—walk around, ignoring the stations and peacekeepers, first and only in each other's eyes as they wandered around, casually chatting.

The female spider, being alone—she was _always _alone—had lots of time to think. She thought of things that she usually did—her family she left behind in Seven, that potion, her current…situation. And, as always, the one question that came up sooner or later, loitering at the back of her mind and revealing itself even when she tried her hardest to forget.

Why was she still alive?

If she had one wish in the whole, wretched world, she'd go back to that instant, that moment in her Games when the 'gift' had landed on her lap, and just left it there. Gave up on all hope and accepted her death, proved herself an ultimate fool and allowed the other tribute—she hadn't even know his _name _before ripping into his organs—to kill her, just slice her head clean off and erase her name from history. It was utter desperation and foolish hope that had driven her to take the potion, and she paid the full price. What was she now? A living freakshow, someone no one showed any humanity to because she wasn't _human. _She had nothing, nothing at all.

Living, dying, it all didn't matter to Arcana anymore. She had just given up.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Jinny, let's get married."

Jin dropped the mug of hot chocolate he was sipping, then hastily gathered up tissues to soak the spreading hot liquid, eyes never leaving Amy as he did so.

"What?"

Amy, huddled up on the windowstill, her pink hair tied up in a bun, with a few curly strands falling to her shoulders. Her large, honey brown eyes were focused on Jin. "I said, let's get married."

Jin stopped, scanning his girlfriend and fellow tribute to see if she was joking. Amy wasn't, the female staring at him very intensely, waiting for an answer.

Jin sat down, facing Amy. Taking one of her elegant ivory hands in his own, the Silver Knight began.

"Amy, I really like you, but we've only known each other for two weeks, and, normally—"

"Nothing about this is normal," Amy interrupted, firmly. "Jin, we're going to die in a month. We're crazy about each other, and we probably won't meet anyone else. Can't we just do it now?"

Jin bit his lip, the red haired male thinking hard. As a young Silver Knight, he'd been taught that marriage was something very important, only to be done when one knew certainly that they loved someone and was ready to commit the rest of their life to that one person. Amy, who had lived a sheltered life where not many things were explained to her and only left up to the young girl's imagination, had quite a different view on the matter and thought marriage only temporarily and broken whenever felt like. Still, the pink haired female was right; nothing about their current situation was normal, so they couldn't follow the set rules for it, anyways.

"What do you say?" Amy stared up at him, her big eyes waiting and slightly afraid.

Jin stares at Amy, his lovely, beautiful, cheerful girlfriend. She was everything to him and more: cute, caring, charming, funny, teasing and the sun to his rain on a cloudy day. He cared about of her so much despite the limited amount of time they'd known each other and spent together. Even so, he had to be true to his morals. As much as he cared for Amy, he couldn't do it.

"Amy," he began, his mouth suddenly dry as sandpaper. He licked his lips and continued, forcing the words out quickly so the female couldn't interject.

"I love you, you know that? You're brilliant and amazing, and I never thought I could care so much for you. You light up my day and the areas around you, and every second I spent without you I can't even breathe. If, in the arena, we ever faced each other, I'd let you kill me without a second thought. I want you to be the one that survives, and carries on, just because you're so simply breathtaking and wonderful. You never complain and always have such a positive outlook on everything, and I'm so sorry for this, but I can't do it," he paused, taking in a breath and not daring to look at Amy. "Maybe if we waited a little while longer."

The room was silent, Jin's words hanging in the air. The red haired male began to fear for the worst, when Amy uncurled from her position and shuffled forward, arms reaching around Jin's neck and face tucked in his shoulder as she hugged him.

"Bring a ring with you to the arena," her soft breath tickles his neck.

Jin nodded, throat choked up.

"If we survive one week together, Jin," Amy caught her breath and Jin felt the female's tears slide onto his bare skin. The fighter nodded, rubbing gentle circles on the dancer's back.

"Amy, we'll survive. I'll make sure with all my heart that we do. We'll get in engaged in the arena, and we'll both survive to marry in Serdin, alright?"

The pink haired female nodded and buried her face deeper, Jin clenching her body closer to him.

They'd do it, he knew it.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"One week, hm?"

The whisper, silent and calculating, mutters behind the slightly opened doors of Jin's tribute room. Heels clicked down the empty hall, and a hidden door swung open as a tall female figure walked in and bolted shut the many locks with the insert of a long, ruby red fingernail. That hand flickered over lazily to creepy up a telephone, and three numbers were dialed when the call was answered.

"Roseclere, hm?"

Something on the other end clicked.

"Oh, don't get angry now. I know I promised to not call you anymore after the scarf incident, but I have another request."

A few more clicks.

"Kae's too brutal, and Saika is recruiting."

More clicks.

"Hm? The girl and the boy? Well, of course. I have the Orb and the cannon is being prepared. Aalis has secured the airship. You have to do something, dear."

A single click.

"If I recall, one of your tributes…"

* * *

_Hahaha cliffhangers. I love my cliffhangers. /chuckles into darkness_

_Review Replies:_

_Snowskeeper: /hugs Ley/ non don't you dare call my darling a prostitut  
llD" Oh well, hopefully I did her character good enough, then lD"  
YE.  
LOLOL. Ohh, I see, then! The only gaming channels I watch is Cry's and sometimes PewDiePie's, so I don't get involved in internet culture, sorry Dx  
Go ahead o uo Your area is your area. Decorations are paid for by Denizens. (Guess who recently reread Keys to the Kingdom and fell in love with Monday's NoonXMonday's Dusk? 8D/brick'd/)  
LOL. Well, as long as you're happy. xD And don't put yourself down! Whoever It'll be will be very lucky to have you. u v u  
LOL. Yes, yes you should xD  
Ohh. Actually, that was stupid of me. I can't believe I thought people began reading at age 0 lD And no, are you sure that's late? O-o Most people begin reading at 3 and some can even start at ages 5-6. Well, I don't know. xD;; I'm not a doctor or professional at this sort of thing. And wow, you're old/SLAPPED/ No no, just kidding u v u"  
How did—O-oh my. That somewhat reminds me of SAO/Mystic Revolution. xD  
Gangnam style? Why that? xD And alright, sounds good, maybe Sirenys can use that in her parody of DT or something. xD  
Alrighty, sounds good then! C8  
How did you get cosmetic items? /grabby hands/ Gimme!  
OMfglolwhat. Are you serious. I don't know to laugh or fear for your life.  
Alrighty!  
Does it now?_

_XxcrystalzxX: Hm?  
Oh no xD I don't believe Duel has a connection to Zero in this story.  
yeah, yeah they are lD I'll reveal more of the mentors once /SPOILER/ starts.  
Well, actually, the LeyXDio/LeyXDuel plays a small role of importance in the Chase Games, so I had to squeeze it in there. ^^"  
Yey! I'd be so happy if it did, I really would c:_

_WInterBarrows: AAKWHEGLSD THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THAT PRAISE ALHGEWG I'M NOT WORTHY STAHP /v/ Nooo it wasn't even near perfection you're perfection /v/  
LOL. Yes, yes he does. OUO Shows the Acho Abuse. OUO  
Acho: /is now bruised all over/  
PFtt- I swear, this is like Achoism. So pathetic it's adorable. xD  
LOLOLERMAIGEHD. I would SO do that if Sieg had to die but Sieg needs to hide and live 8C  
Awaglksdg no Kieran isn't terrible WRITE ALL THE FANFICTION.  
OHMYGODIKNOW. Actually, Sirenys told me something really helpful a couple days ag She said that, if you're having trouble writing a lot, you can write the scene as a sort of script first, so you have a basic outline you can add expression and description to. I actually did that with Lucifer's chapter and it worked great! I really improved my word count C8  
LOL. But Acho, as your creator, I shall forever rage war against Acho Adoration. OUO  
LOLOLOL. Whoever else read that is probably really concerned now.  
AWWWALKGHALGKA I KNOW RIGHT PLAYING LEY IS SO FUN IT'S LIKE TELEPORT TELEPORT BOOM BOOM BOOM HAHAH TELEPORT.  
YES DIO WILL PROTECT LEY WHY DO I SHIP THIS NOW.  
Oh my god LOLOLOLOLOLOL. That. Yes. So true. I'm not even going to attempt to deny it.  
Awaeklghsadg YES IKR. And lucky! Use your Ley often so I can stare, please/slapped/ I'm not even going to mention homo here just Ley. Dat outfit. /SLAPPED/  
/Writes your name down as you are slaughtered/ Alright, the marriage will take place once all these fangirls are done. /points to long line of fangirls/  
Ergehd ikr? xD That would be ultimate troll. I'd do it if people wouldn't rage so hard. xD  
Pretend all you shall OUO /whispers 'everyone dies' as you pretend/  
Hmm… A chance to help out a sexy reviewer attack my best friend? Legit. /pulls out map of review area/ How do we start, general?  
Because we're both crazy C,:  
Ahh you have cats too? Luckk Also, Vaseline helps hairballs go down, I believe u vu  
Oh, Vaseline makes your eyelashes blacker and thicker and slightly longer. It also works instantly on chapped lips (Canadian fall weather stahp I8) and doesn't clog pores, as well as preventing split ends C8 Basically, a godsend. xD I love Vaseline.  
Oh gosh. Yes, best hippie ever. Allergic to weed, that's amazing xD  
"Fight the power, man!" Whut? xD; I don't think I've ever heard that before. Then again, I don't know anyone who's a hippie o A o  
LOL NON. I will stay forever faithful to Acho Abuse.  
Ermaigehd. I can understand, though xD I get super hyper drunk over tea since I put milk and sugar in my tea and I drink like twenty cups a day. I can't help that I'm dehydrated! D8 _

_Sirenys: Haha yep/mingcreys/ I'm sorry I'll cover more of Lucifer later ;u;  
AWELKHGAG—NO STAHP NOTHING WAS PERFECT YOU'RE PERFECT.  
Awalgkhsad she isn't in character I know sobs /crawls away/  
Hahah no that's like cliché female I failed llD  
LOL—I—I went along with it. xD;;  
Atleast you didn't twerk._

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: 'Attacking' is one way of putting it. xD  
;_; It's going to kill me to kill Ley. I love her so much.  
Gladly /gives you Evoker/ o u o  
Hate you? Naw, more like I'd squeal in delight and hug you and dungeon with you ALL of the time and fangirl over Dio's abs together/SLAPPED/ u v u  
Ohh, that seems sensible.  
Oh my gosh xD Slow down there, or you'll have nothing to watch! xD  
LOLOL. Now I'm setting that on my life goals list. I WILL watch those shows one da Follow me, my good friend!/kicked to Pluto  
Well, I think good tastes also depends on people u vu So I say you have good tastes!  
Hahha, I'm glad you told m That sounds wonderful, dear! I'm not too familiar with Supernatural so I can't help there, but the overall plot sounds interesting! The whole banishment and rebirth fits the characters as well as their roles, and the same fate really could be amazing if it's well thought! If you do write it, I'd love to read it! u v u_

_MelenMelon: Nonon it's okay I don't think anyone has reviewed each and every chapter xD I'm just glad you take the time to review. Thank you! uv u  
LOL. Thank you so much ;/v/; /hands you all of DT/ here. have more u v u  
Yes, I know, and I'm so sorry for that ;_; I'll make it up, I promise!  
RIGHT OMFG I KNEW I WAS FORGETTING SOMETHING JFC I FORGOT TO WRITE THE BATTLE SCENE GOSH DARNIT. ;_;  
We'll never know o uo Unless I write like biographies on the mentors or something. xD Actually, the mentors' Games. That would be interesting!  
Nonon its okay I enjoy all of your questions ask away ;u;  
Who knows? Hopefully Lucienteal will publish stories about her amazing OCs sometime soon~  
Ding ding ding! Yes, yes he does, and yes, yes he is, and yes, yes they do. xD Hopefully that wasn't too confusing u v u  
Oh, the two would be perfect (or maybe not so perfect) in each other's company!  
Ahh, thank you so much u/v/u And yes, I quite agree! Ley is awesome and she's my precious baby ;u; Her 4__th__ is awesome! I honestly want to be able to play KGC JUST to try it out, I really hate having to wait ;_; dat field kill skill I need.  
Ahh, thank you so much /v/  
LOLNO. YOUR LASS/SIEG/RUFUS MAN. DEM CHARACTERS. HNNGGS FOREVER.  
I will try! C:  
Haha no, that's quite alright! I LOVE long reviews, they make me so happ  
Nonon stahp I'm not amazing you ar just write, that's all. xD  
LOLOL. Okay, I will! Once it finishes, I'll feel so weird since I'm used to like waking up and going like "Okay today I should write some DT".  
About the crossover question…I honestly don't know. After DT finishes, I might take a break from writing fanfiction, which includes not finishing my ongoing pieces such as 333 Ways to get Kicked out of Serdin and Rebuilding. The reason for this is because I want to focus more attention to my originals ^^  
LOLOL. Nooo, my poor little Skype ; n ;  
I'll try my very best, then!_

_SIRENYS WINS: AHHHHH Thank you so much ;u; /strokes your face/_

_The Veteran Prince: /hands some tissues/ you okay? xD;  
That's quite alright! Glad to see you're reading no  
And no, it's not awesome. You're awesome! Thank you so much /v/  
LOl. Alrighty, I'll try upload it ASAP! _


	44. Day 14

_Alrighty! It's been a while since my last update. xD I've been addicted to playing GC lately. It's so fun to get back into the game, but I still want Lime so badly ;_;_

* * *

Chapter Forty-Two: Day 14

The Chase Games didn't bother Lucas.

As the bright mentor met with his tributes, all gloomy-eyed and dreading the days to come, Lucas Jeshua Difilium thinks that he isn't quite normal. The plain, simple truth is that he doesn't mind the Chase Games, not at all. Watching children die on television didn't fray his nerves at the least; being pitted against his friends in the arena didn't test his humanity at all. He just went along with it, casually slinging one perfectly aimed bullet into the heart of his once best friend, letting loose a barrage of firearms at the females he and a few other males had courted once just a week ago. Within a few days, Lucas emerged from the arena as a smiling, cheerful Victor that didn't bat an eye when his kills were replayed on the big screen.

It was only a repeat of things he'd been doing ever since he was able to hold and fire a gun. Growing up in the outskirts of District Eight, Hunting, it was kill or be killed, much like the Chase Games themselves. The black market was chockfull of resources to be used to one's advantage, but only if you knew when and where to look. One banded with teammates to get the loot, then later competed to be the first one to turn on them all and shoot, so that he could get away with riches and be safe with no witness to his acts. It was the way of life for males in the behind-the-times, grey world District Eight had become, and everyone had to accept it, like it or not.

Still, there was another way of choice. Small acts of rebellion, small kills that seemingly appeared random but worked to advantage sooner or later, worked towards a better life and signs of rebellion. However, even as they rebelled against Serdin's ground rules, they rebelled against each other as well. Fear kept the spark alive, and yet fear made them untrusting and backstabbing. No one could afford to go against his natural instincts and attempt to make friends; men who did usually ended up dead, stuffed in the gutters and ripped of all gold. They couldn't work as one to quench Serdin's control one and for all, only as separate beings going around in an endless cycle.

So, going into the arena, killing those that he had joked around with, it was all a second nature to Lucas.

As was it—he was certain—to Rufus, the bounty hunter and one with experience out of all his tributes. Even as he led them to the stadium so eagerly and cheerfully, he kept a close, trained eye and ear on Rufus, his moment and way of speech. The bounty hunter walked with practiced ease, like one that was ready to battle for his territory but knew when to hightail and vanish. A predator's—not a fool's—instinct.

_But, _Lucas thinks with slight amusement, _how far will that take you in the arena?_

There was a difference between caring and happiness, Lucas believes. Dragging his mopey tributes along Serdin's many gaudy attractions, he told them of all the adventures he had exploring the place, even though none of them paid his chatty voice any heed.

That was perfectly fine to Lucas. He just wouldn't pay attention when they died.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Rufus couldn't get him off his mind.

That silver haired youth that had stopped the battle between him and the magenta haired demon.

Why did he look so familiar?

Rufus had a good memory. He remembered everyone one of his clients, to make sure they couldn't cheat him. He remembered every victim, memoirs to his success. He remembered the faces of people, children he'd passed on the streets, just in case they'd become his targets in any future missions. And he was absolutely certain he had never seen the intense, deep blue eyes of the District Two male tribute that called himself Lass Isolet.

But even though he was so positive on his memory, seeing Lass's face triggered something deep in his memory, something he couldn't quite figure out and frustrated him to no ends. Rufus liked knowing his own mind, stability and reassurance in his own abilities. Now that his mind was playing tricks on him, how could he trust others and form allies when he doubted himself?

* * *

_Rather short chapter, I'm really sorry /:_

_Review Replies:_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: YES. We will dungeon until GC breaks down. Then we will hack into GC's system and get GC back up and dungeon some more./SLAPPED  
Oh my gosh xD You watch fast! Well, I hope you don't die too much waiting for the new season xD How many seasons will there be?  
PFFTT—LOLERMAIGEHD. This is why you're epic. xD Alrighty, let us start a new world on Pluto where we are worshipped as supreme goddesses!  
Oh, I see! That seems good u vu As long as you don't have them doing ~*it*~ every few sentences like rabbits, that's a solid idea!  
Oh, why? oA o Well, you don't know until you try! Plus, I'm sure you can find a wonderful beta reader that could help you u vu  
I do! My skype is keep_the_beats, and anyone else who wants to add me is welcome to! I enjoy talking very much.u vu _

_GODDAMMIT: I—I'm guessing this is Sirenys? xD;;  
Alrighty! u vu _

_Sirelegitreview: LOLOL. Alrighty, alrighty! I declare SirenysXArcana canon. xD  
What will Roseclere do?o A o  
/v/ /mentions everyone in everything  
Haha no me? Perfect? Where? You're perfect, stop jokin  
AWELKGHSDKG Not sure to argue for my writing abilities or favourite female character. xD _

_2Honesty2: Welcome back~ and yes, hopefully for real this tim  
Thank you so much /v/ that would be the dream? And oh? You know from first-hand experience? That's amazing~ What books have you published? u v u  
Oh yes, of course! What do you need to know?_

_WinterBarrows: Awaeklghsdg no no Arcana isn't deep xD  
AWEKLGHAKGD /v/ Everyone's acting like getting mentioned by me is a deal or something xD  
YOU ARE THE BEST PERSON EVE /hearts  
LOL. Well, they might get married, or atleast engaged. Who knows? C:  
Aw. Thank you so much u v u  
ACHOIST OMG LOLOL. Deep down, everyone is an Achoist.  
LOLOL. I PROCLAIM IT CANON. BARROWS, YOU ARE ACHO'S WAIFU.  
LOLOL. It might be suggested ouo /SLAPPED/. And yes, Sieg shall hide in his emo corner. I am totally tempted to tell spoilers here because Sieg's angsty ending could be so easily made into SiegXKieran. xD  
Pftt—then it shall remain between us two. xD Kieran is a darling ;u;  
It's better than sitting there looking at a screen with two paragraphs for three hours! xD  
/gladly hands you Acho/ /But making Acho cry is the point of Acho Abuse/  
Pftt—yes, so true.  
ALWEHKGKSDLG ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF WHAT I DO ON MY LEY. xD ALWAYS TELEPORT ALL DEM PLACES!  
Well, until he /SPOILERS/. But yes, Ley gets a fine view of that ass, front and back./SLAPPED  
LOLyes! xD  
AWELKGHDG YES PLAY DAT DIO FOR MOI. HNNNGGG DIO.  
LOLOL. Just create one c:/SLAPPED  
OMFG YES. IF DT IS STILL ONGOING NEXT APRIL FIRST I WILL PULL THE BIGGEST APRIL FOOL'S TROLL EVER. O U O IT SHALL FREAK ALL OF YOU GUYS OUT.  
/chuckles evilly in authoring cave/ /taps hands together like villains in those movies/ /Spins around in spinny chair/ SPIN SPIN SPIN! 8D  
GAHH EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO OVERUSED I FALL FOR THAT "realize there is no 5__th__ step" ALL THE TIME. ; n ;  
PFtt-/gets Arcana and Acho/Prepared! But General, Snowskeeper is planning an ambush on us! D8  
Oh my god LOLOL. I have no idea why I laughed so hard. Your cats. xD  
XD That sounds amusing, to say the least!  
Oh my gosh. Seriously? Now I'm kinda scared. xD;; Wow.  
/crushes all remaining Acho Adoration like Pereso (U LIL SHIET) crushed my Ley/  
LOLOL OH MY GOSH xD IRONY.  
I love chocolate too! I'm an addict to Menchie's chocolate favour and syrup. xD I've drunk tea since I was like…3? xD; So I'm used to i My friends give me weird looks sometimes, though. xD_

_Shinedown: Sorry! O A O As I've stated, I'm not a fashion designer ;_;  
llD"" I must go back someday and fix all my mistakes.  
Thank you~ u v u _

_Snowskeeper: W-what makes you think Jin would beat Amy? o A o /JinXAmy is like the canon ship everyone ships xD;;/  
I'm—I'm not sure what to say. xD  
/provides more shelf and burning space/  
Non! D8 /takes Ley effigy away/ My preciouse  
No, I've never heard of W92Ba What does he play? And I mainly watch Cry's videos because his voice is like alkawhe;gklashgdKLHA:GLKHD MARRY ME NOW PLEASE.  
Aww ;_; /pats/ feel better! We're all here for yo The DT review repsonses is also a great place if you're feeling down! Maybe try sleeping earlier? And don't say that. I only know you online and I can say you'd be a better boyfriend than most of the guys out there. You're funny, original, and a great writer. u v u Pretty sure that qualifies you, or atleast in my dating expertise book. /does not actually have a dating expertise book/  
PFFTT—You were better than me xD I didn't learn hello until I was like 3, and the whole "run spot" thing used to confuse me a lot because English isn't my first language xD;;  
SERDIN STYLE. EEEYYY DEAD TRIBUTE.  
We will never surrender our stars! O n O /alerts WinterBarrows  
What happened to the other eye, oh serious sir with one eye?  
Are you sure you think so? o u o_

_XxcrystalzxX: Oh gosh xD I can understand how you feel. My mom is always using the internet in our house and my internet speed is sometimes like a sad little snail. xD  
Future dead boyfriend ermaigehd.  
Same, same here. They're both open, respectable people that also love attention, and a sneaky undercover romance just wouldn't do it. Unless the circumstances made it so, of course. xD  
It just makes it all the more angsty! C:  
LOLOL. Honestly, I'm sorry, I love DioXZero/ZeroXDio. You can find some really good, fluffy ones that don't have ~*those*~ scenes and are really cute in general. u v u  
Ohh, that's a solid point! Wonder why she didn't do that? xD; Well, when you're being stressed in a life or death situation, I guess it makes sense to do the thing that first comes to mind? Tsk tsk Arcana, use your brains next time!_


	45. Day 15

_ _ Another short chapter hits the stack. _

_Some notes before the chapter begins:_

_-Okay, my word literally threw a fit and now most of my files can't be opened...Upset Fata is not pleased._

_-Also, I started up a new little game called Find Fata! More info is on my profile. Basically, if you find me on NAGC, you get a free little oneshot of your choice! It can be any characters, any fandom (that I'm familiar with) and ranges from 2k-5k words. Though, it should be from a dungeon, not from an invite, because I'm socially awkward about invites and won't accept them unless they're from people I know. So if you enter a room that I'm in or whisper me, you'll get a oneshot! 2k for whisper, 4k-5k for dungeon!_

_-The wonderful 2Honesty2 has created a prequel to DT! That makes three fanfictions based somewhat off DT now: DT Sexy Version, a parody by Sirenys, Chessboard, an inspiring angsty piece by Lucienteal, and now, Dangerous Times: The Mentor Games by 2Honesty2. They're all wonderful stories and I recommend checking them out sometime! IT really touches me deeply that people are willing to make things like this for DT,so thank you so much! u v u _

_-When my word crashed, I ended up handwriting three chapters at like 2:00 AM in the morning, so I'll be updating them sooner or later!_

_-Since I'm using wordpad to type this, and wordpad doesn't have spellcheck, there might be some errors in this. As most people know, I'm the worst in the world at spelling, so hopefully it won't be all that bad. _  
_Long author's note is long._

* * *

Chapter Forty-Three: Day 15

Kae closed the door behind him carefully, hearing the lock click into place as the wooden frame groaned slightly. Creeping into his room, the name looked around at his given quarters.

It was a mess. Papers spilled everywhere, in mini-whirlwinds caused by the opened window, cracked with rusty iron bars. Books cruelly torn into pieces with leather covers hanging at awkward angles, ink dotting the scratched wallpaper and ruined carpeted floors, chairs and dining table broken into mere splinters. The bathroom had been ransacked, the sink left running as pieces of broken cement and water forced open a door barely hanging onto the walls.

Kae, who normally loved clean areas and would not stand for the state of this room, seemed perfectly at ease as he strolled in and sat on a mattress, ripped right open to its stuffing innards. His fox ears twitched and he sniffled a sneeze, glancing with emotionless eyes around at the room.

"I did it today too, eh?" He questions no one in pacticular, and bends down to pick up a shard of ruined vase. He tosses it to a filled trashcan, and his tail whisks slightly in annoyance and slight humor as he misses, the glass smashing against the brim and shattering into even small pieces.

He hated cramped places. Avoiding the newly broken fragements, Kae stood up and left his room again, unable to stand being there and without a backwards glance.

He doesn't know where he's going. In fact, he never knows. His feet lead him to the training stadium, where he walks around the quiet room, every other being in the castle asleep.

He didn't mind the darkness, the silence. In fact, he loves it. No one was around to hear him rage at the state of his life, no peering eyes to stare at his hunched form, glowing with deadly aura, pressed hard against cold metal floors, wishing, worshipping the gods above to give him something to be happy about in the wicked world.

In truth, he was happy. he loved the vast different berries and fish served here, wide acres of forest belonging to him, plains of daises and wide trees that stretched to no ends all in his possession. He had everything he wouldn't even dare to dream of, back in District Nine when he had trained under the Silver Knights and learned their ways of life.

He was happy here, but it wasn't the happiness he'd felt back with his family, home, and friends. Back in the days when the Silver Knights were a small, homely organization, not preaching their intentions all over the place. The happiness he felt here always held a slight trace of melancholy, the cons outweighing the pros. It was the happiness that acknowledged he'd grown from his adolescent years, the days when he'd have no worries, none at all. It was memory, images of himself and the events that passed him by as time ticked by. It was freedom, the leaves that brushed his arms as he pounced, the gusts of wind on his cheeks as he sniffed the air and whisked his tail, so much like an animal. It was also agreement, a contract that his old life was over, and he'd have to go on with this life no matter the insults, the nightmares, the obstacles life chucked in his way.

And that was Kae's state of happiness.

* * *

_Review Replies:_

_WinterBarrows: LOLOL oh my gosh I laughed so hard at that._

_MelenMelon: Aweakghsdg /v/ no, what pro? I have no pro you have all my pro._

_Acho's Waifu: (The name oh my god)_  
_LOLOL. /hands gold star/ And no no, Lucas is fine! He's just slightly triggerhappy, that's all C8_  
_Her support is support for undeveloped sucky characters lD_  
_OH MY GOD LOLOLOL._  
_/teases/ u v u Well, have some hope, they might be getting married, might c:_  
_LOLOL. All followers of Achoism must wear it proudly on their nametag to support their weak cowardly god. _  
_HOW IS NUNAVAT?_  
_LOLOL. You okay? xD I shall write all the SiegXKieran for you, precious /v/ (And I have to get working on those oneshots for you and Melen, to )_  
_LOLOL. I've been discovered!/hisses and retreats_  
_Abusive waifu much! /Acho is choking/_  
_LOLOLYES. Teleport here and there, no one can accuse you of doing nothing c:_  
_/WILL NOT REVEAL THIS SPOILER NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WANT TO/_  
_Yeah, Ley! Share the Dio, we love him more than you ever will :c_  
_Share him maybe? C8_  
_I'll try! xD Just stop updating the last chapter until April 1st. xD_  
_/spin spin spin/ YES HAHAH THAT'S BRILLIANT. ANY IDEAS? /gets notepad and pen/_  
_I'm on it, general! The clevage will be strong! Good luck in your distraction of Snowskeeper!_  
_I want cats 8C_  
_It sounds like you're talking about something wild and exotic now. xD I'll keep those words in heart when I adventure the world outside! (As soon as I can drag myself away from Dio's abs...)_  
_D8 But my Ley has feelings! /hugs crushed Ley/_  
_LOl. Teach me more! 8D_  
_Oh, Menchie's is a frozen yogurt place where you can add anything onto your yogurt, including all the chocolate in the store. C8_  
_Chocolate is delish. End of story._  
_LOLOL. I can so see you just sitting in the mall sipping tea with your pinky out and wearing a top hat and monocle. xD _

_porky: Who knows? o u o We'll see what happens in the games!_

_XxcrystalzxX: Yay! I honestly can't believe it. xD It'd be so happy if it reached 300!_  
_Aw D8 I'm so sorry that happened to her! Tell her I said hi back, please, and that I hope she gets access soon!_  
_I know ;_; short chapters have been short._  
_LOL. I can understand! NAGC gave Rufus out for free, too. And Melen is an amazing Rufus playe Bullets everywhere!_

_SnowSummer: Haha, yep! _  
_Oh gosh, I can understand. I want Ley's 4th to come to NAGC so badly!_  
_Aw. Glad to know you ship AmyXJin! I find them absolutely adorabl _  
_Thank you so much! _

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: Yes, all my yes. That would awesome! _  
_LOl. See to it that you do, then! _  
_Well, most shows end at around ten seasons D8 Hopefully it'll go on longer!_  
_LOL. yes, yes you can be the goddess of stars! C:_  
_Ahh, okay! That sounds good and actually really interesting. Maybe you should write it someday!_  
_Aw. D: How come?_  
_LOl. Well, we can ramble on together, then. xD_

_The Veteran Prince: LOl. Yes, I do! Thank you so muc _  
_Mmhmm! Before we know it, the Chase Games will start!_  
_Thank yo I'll try update ASAP!_

_2Honesty2: Alrighty! I've seen the fanfic already, as you probably kno _  
_Thank you! ^^_  
_LOL. is it? Well then, come here, it's pretty cold and rainy right now!_  
_Oh gosh, I know! I can't wait for Catching Fire. u v u Finnick, my precious!_  
_LOl. Did you? I love sushi. What kind did you have?_


	46. Day 16

_This was one of the chapters that I wrote when my word was having problems, so hopefully it's okay!_

* * *

Chapter Forty-Four: Day 16

"Gosh, where are those notes?"

For the fifth time in the span of a few short hours, Aceline sighs with irritation. She'd been doing nothing all day but sit warming the sidelines as she watched the other mentors walk straight up to the sponsors and claim the better for themselves. Now, it was finally her chance to reel some in, but all that remained were greedy, low-ranked nobles that only came to these events to appear rich and popular. How was she to worm any money or promises out of them?

Whatever. She'd do it anyways. Her tributes were good, hard-working, respectable citizens—albeit not natural killing machines like Acho's male tribute. That wasn't fair, why did the one loser of all the Victors get the most promising tribute? It should've been someone that deserved it, deserved attention and popularity for their hard work, someone who worked towards success and got it—her.

Not to say that the Chase Games didn't bother Aceline—they bothered her just as they bothered everyone else, unless your name was Lucifer and you were a nosy _brat—_but still, Aceline wanted to win. They were called games, and in games there were winners and losers. Granted most times you didn't lose your life if you lost, but it was still better to win. There hadn't been a winner since she had won her games, and she had full plans to change that and make District Ten well respected.

Which, of course, would be set into action _if _she could find those notes.

Eventually, she gave up and decided to just wing it. She'd tricked sponsors and the hearts of Serdin citizens by doing so during her own time, surely it would work now?

"Go train. I'll meet you there." She talks to the two quietly conversing beside her—her two tributes, Raphel and Lime. Okay people, really, but without much potential to win.

Lime looks at her, brushing her minty-green locks out of her face. She blinks large, sparkling blue eyes and nods carefully, standing up. Raphel followed suit, the two silent as they left Aceline alone.

The mentor looked around, seeing a few other mentors nearby. There was Saika, looking around awkwardly. Aceline guessed the tributes were with Brendan and the female probably felt unneeded. Well, unlike Saika and Brendan, Aceline and Aalis didn't need anyone to babysit their tributes. Aceline felt a twinge of envy as she saw Saika walk over to the training area—obviously bored—and began to blow up training dolls so flawlessly and easily, like an everyday routine. Though the female didn't like to fight, there was doubt about it; Saika was strong, stronger than Aceline. Which wasn't fair; Saika was just born so perfect while Aceline actually had to _work _for it.

The female mentor turned her head away from the District Two Victor and found gaze settle on Giou and Aalis, who were, once again, seemingly arguing over something.

_Something pointless, _Aceline thinks with a snort. Knowing Giou and his impossible stubbornness, Aceline had long abandoned reason and understanding to just let the both of them go on their own way and only talk if completely necessary.

With Aalis, it was a different story. They worked together and came from the same district, so of course they were bound to talk sometime. She found the childish male fine, polite and handy in situation, usually involving a certain poser District One mentor and her dog of a boyfriend/slave, Acho. The only thing that slightly bothered Aceline about Aalis was his 'other personality', so to put it. When the male got absoutely silent, Aceline made it a point to either leave the room as soon as possible or ignore Aalis completely. Still, she knew she shouldn't judge. Every mentor had their quirks, and Aalis's was just slightly disturbing.

And there was Selena, just so perfect in every aspect. The angel-winged mentor flicked her shining sheet of long, platinum blonde hair over her small, sculpted shoulders with one elegant hand, and all the sponsors were tripping themselves to gain her luminous smile and gentle reassurance. In ways, Aceline admired the female for being so amazing in looks, relationship, and personality, and in other ways she also hoped Selena would be run over by a train. The female was just born so beautiful, so great, and had all the good things in this world thrust into her face, and was still receiving media attention to this day. When you're beautiful, you can get away with anything.

And, there was Acho, cowering in his corner with dark bags under his glassy green eyes. Aceline was surprised to find that Sharrif was no where in sight—usually the male clung to her like a lifeline. Had Acho finally found someone better? Aceline doubted it. The male was just so pathetic, anyone willing to marry him would be out of their sane mind, god bless whoever that might be.

Lucifer stands near Acho, sniggering at the whimpering mentor. Aceline honestly had no words for Lucifer: she disapproved, just as any other person did.

And Aceline reached the last person in the small group, her face breaking into a smile. Finally, someone she could stand to be around! Roseclere stood apart from the others as always, petite and confused. Aceline found her shorter girl to be sweet and adorable at times, despite Lucifer's constant mocking and Lucas and Kae's endless idiotic questioning of her clicks. Deep down, Roseclere was a sweet person, giving most of the mentors a rose once or twice, and going out of her way to make those scarves for the new tributes. If no one saw that, so be it.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Aceline wandered to the sponors, waving to Roseclere as she did so. She climbed the steps slowly, dreading what was to come, but straightened up to face the sponsors head-on. She learned from others by watching them, and even if she was wasn't the most beautiful, most cunning person, person around, she'd try her best. Just wing it, and hope her efforts were enough.

* * *

_There, I hope that was enough! I'll be typing three other chapters I wrote soon!_

_Review Replies:_

_Sirenys: nono it's okay ;u; you don't have to review all the time I understand this doesn't even deserve reviews anyways ;u;  
LOLOLOL.  
NOOOO! Don't take Kae! ; n;  
LOLNO._

_Guest: Y-yeah, sorry about that ^^;; I know the chapters are short and I'm trying my best to update everyday so we can get to the Games, so please bear with me! ^^;; School gets in the way sometimes and it really sucks ; n ; I'll try my best, though! I know this isn't what people want to read haha ;;_

_hardcoreGSfan: NONO IT'S OKAY THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING NOW /v/  
Ahh thank you /v/  
/hearts back/  
LOL. Same, same here! School is fun, but not the homework/projects. XD;;  
LOLOLOL. /gives you another star u/v/u_


	47. Day 17

_Melen was a dear and she wanted this chapter to be updated as soon as possible, so here it is! C8 Literally like ten minutes after the other one. xD_

* * *

Chapter Forty-Five: Day 17

"Giou, think about it," he begs again, voice rising desperately.

His older brother snorts, looking the other way. Arms crossed, Giou replies with a straightforward one and emotionless face.

"No."

Aalis grips his guitar, Eden, harder, and stares at Giou in disappointment, his childish face contouring to one of sadness. "But Giou..."

Giou held up a hand, stopping the other. "Aalis, I've told you, my answer is no. You do what you want, and I do what I want."

"So you're going to leave me just like that?" Aalis snapped back suddenly.

Giou opened his mouth, but did not speak.

Aalis continued, completely abandoning his soft and peaceful tone. "We've lost everything, Giou. We both wake up in the dead of night from nightmares. I used to have to crawl into your bed at night so I could sleep for just a few hours!" The boy screamed, just screamed of the pent-up emotions and Giou's constant, blunt refusals. "You taught me how to walk, how to read, write, how to act around people. You rebuilt me after the Games, and was there when no one else was. Why are you acting like this now?"

Though the last question was directed at him, Giou looked the other straight in the eyes, unflinching, uncaring.

"You were interesting." Was all he said.

Aalis stopped, dead frozen as time seemed to slow and his blood ran cold. Interesting? That was it?

"You were some freakshow," Giou continued. "A small boy with two personalities: that of the devil and one completely lost. Everyone wanted to see how you turned out. We placed bets on you. Why do you think everyone cared so much?"

Aalis gaped, mouth open, eyes wide, standing straight. Giou took no notice of his 'brother's' distressed state and continued, unbothered, tone remaining, as always, monotonous. "No cares much around here. It's nature of humans. We only do what benefits out own good. I did it for the money," he shrugged.

There was a long pause before Aalis rediscovered his voice. "So...you didn't care?"

Giou replied back, absolutely emotionless. "Nope."


	48. Day 18

_I'm updating this chapter along with the Aalis's chapter, so yep! C8_

* * *

Chapter Forty-Six: Day 18

"Kill all those that oppose!"

The last words he hears before everything turn awry and chaos peaks.

_What happened? _The question swims in his mind. One minute he was watching the Games on the big screen, the other he's blocking rentless attacks from desperate citizens and enraged demons. His golden lances tipped with glowing white lights block assaults from all sides as he stares with horrified eyes up at the television screen, at the two dead bodies, with blood hailing from the skies above.

And the wide, blue sky turned suddenly red with a signal flare.

_6 has fallen._

It was bound to happen, but he hadn't thought right now. Everyone was too busy wrapped up in the Games—the demons fearing for the lives of their beloved princess and honoured chief. Serdin had taken them by surprise, during their mourning for Ley, and completely crushed the place.

Which was why the streets of Serdin were suddenly filled by panicking citizens from the demon's last attempt at attack, enraged at their chief's death, destroying everything in their path. Michael was well protected inside his haven of golden spears and light barrier, and the mentor thought he'd be willing to sit there and wait for the riot to pass, but the District Eleven mentor found himself rushing through the crowds, plowing aside demon and human alike. He didn't know why he was so worried—only that he knew the demons were bound to blame Lucifer for not training Ley and Dio enough. He knew that Lucifer could protect himself, but knowing there were tribes of demons banging at his brother's door didn't make Michael feel any better about the situation. Whatever happened and even if Lucifer didn't like it, he had to get to the other mentor, just in case something happened.

Michael didn't need to be human to care for his brother, even if the latter didn't return said feeling.


	49. Day 19

_The last of the mentors! 11 days until the Games, yay!_

_-I'm truly sorry to hear about the bombing in Boston. That's terrible._

_-So recently I've been hearing a lot of rants and depressing stories. I just wanna remind everyone reading this that you're beautiful and even though the world looks dark, the good will always triumph! You're in the GC fandom for a reason, you should know the heroes always always win with no casualties whatsoever. C8  
But in all honesty, stay beautiful and remember that someone cares. Even if it looks like no one does, I do. ; v ;_

_-Roseclere is also from an original of mine, so I tried really hard to fit her into the universe of DT, but there's still some lacking plot holes and it hurts me. ; n ; _

_-Lately I've been feeling like what little writing skill I have is steadily decreasing and I don't have faith in my abilities anymore. I8_

_-One more review until 300 reviews, oh my gosh. Ahh, this is killing me slowly! I can't believe it. 300__Th__ reviewer will get a oneshot! C:_

_-The poem. Who can crack the code? 8D_

* * *

Chapter Forty-Seven: Day 19

_A flash of red, and the single scream._

She sees it all, and yet she cannot tell anyone. She knows how this will end, she knows the Victors, and she knows just how old she is really. She knows everything.

But she can't tell anyone.

She tries to, but no one can understand. They don't try, they hear and they leave. To them, her voice is metallic nonsense. They don't hear the emotion hidden in a single small noise, the unshed tears that she expressed and had returned, ignored.

_Click, click, click._

Can't you hear the meanings hidden undercover?

She wants it so desperately. She needs someone to hold her, someone to comfort her, and someone to listen to her woes and tell her it was alright. She had someone like that, but she'd acted without feelings and lost the only caring person in her life.

So she tries so fiercely, giving it her all, every time. Still, no one believes her. The scarves, no one's figured it out. She tries her very best to warn them, warn them all of the inevitable mistakes they'd make as human beings, tries to tell them they _can _make a stand against Serdin and fight for what they believe in. She tries again and again, tirelessly, everyday, but even her power is mediocre in the churning wheels of fate and mind. She can't force the others to believe, bend their minds to her will, she can only give them what's needed and hope they make the right chances. It frustrates her, sometimes she wants a room of puppets where no one could die and everyone paid attention her, but such things were not possible. She had her dolls, lovely little things with china faces and sewn blonde wigs, but their lips were sealed with stone, coloured red and never to move. Their eyes remained lifeless, staring blankly even as she clicked on, voice growing fainter and fainter as she finally stopped, knowing her words were nothing but wasted, falling on deafened appendages. They were items of adolescence, and she had long given up that allotment.

So she can only do what is capable of her abilities, but nothing can be helped with her inability. No matter what, it'll end the way she's seen, and she knows it.

_~Dangerous Times~_

_The grimace of black. Blood._

She's been through this scene countless times, too. She goes back, again and again, half because its entertaining to watch and half because she wants to help the tribute in black and white. If his friend hadn't died and caused the green one's rampage, would he remain the cheery, teasing, grey-eyed youth, instead of a heartless, raging killer?

Even as she tried, she didn't know what would happen. She could only watch and make small adjustments, but she had to wait for the course of time to take it's toll. She could be immortal, she could be God, she could befriend all the people in the world and solve all the problems, but the only thing that held her back was the clicks. She continued, day by day, always clicking even if no one heard her. They all ignored her, ignored the wiry, short, golden-haired little maiden stalking the corners, watching with big grey-blue eyes. What was she, but another oddity among Serdin's collection?

_A spark of blue. Hope._

She smiles, the corners of her petite mouth rising. This was her favourite scene. It was like watching a movie, the same old replay on the cracked television she had at her tiny home in Twelve, stolen from the junkyard just as it was about to be crushed.

Oh, how she missed that place, those days when she didn't have to head out and attempt to socialize with anyone, just curl up in the crook of her chair, warm and content being alone and with a broken mug filled with tea and patched blanket. She didn't feel like a clicking freak then, only a little girl shy of the world. It was the safe and sound feeling she'd been lacking lately, in the face of such disappointment.

It was hard, being the only one to know of this. It was lonely too, having no one to talk to. Citizens were mean, unknowing how much their actions hurt to Roseclere. They'd fling eggshells and peanut butter—two things easily available and expandable in Twelve—into her face, hair and clothes, all impossible to get out. She cowers in bed sometimes, remembering her own disastrous chariot presentation. Just because she wouldn't scream out her feelings didn't mean she didn't have any. She felt, felt the slow beating of her heart, made fast with adrenaline as she rushed through the heavy forest, raining falling steady above as cameras whirled all around as she approached. No one ever watched or sponsored her on the Games. Who wanted a mute, short girl from Twelve?

In winter, she'd see her own breath mystified by the cold air, made even more chilly than possible with the cries of mourning families and friends. She'd know something existed inside of her, when her heart clenched up at the sight of begging citizens or enraged mothers weeping for lost children. It was her own, carefully beating little heart, keeping her alive, keeping the blood in her veins fresh, and keeping her emotions all the more real than anyone would ever know.

Because of her own simple sensitivity, Roseclere wanted to change the Games.

She couldn't explain why, but she had always found a connection to people suffering. Maybe it was that she had learned from watching others so many times, that she had promised herself not to make the same mistakes, or she'd just seen it one too many times to be fed up with it once and for all, but Roseclere couldn't stand seeing anyone hurting. It wasn't kindness, it wasn't that she was trying to copy the actions of a saint, it was just that she couldn't stand it and that was it. She felt for every single tribute passed in the arena, she felt for every Victor come out, dead and alive at the same time. She felt, and yet she had not the power of speech. She couldn't offer anything but her own lamenting thoughts and regret, for the state of the world now, never likely to change.

_~Dangerous Times~_

_The dawn of a new day. History._

This is how it'll all end.

She strides over to a desk and picks up a pen, gripping it too tightly. Without a second's thought, she began to write, unstopping until she picked up her work and examined it one more time.

This was it. Her last attempt to set things right.

_The flame haired saviour blazes alone with justice,_

_From the betrayed battle mage and suffering striker to unknowing aegis._

_And copies of black raise sharpened rapiers,_

_To the necromancer's words splattering blood on acres._

_Elves summon the wrath of Mother Nature, _

_A shining ray of hope, the soul stone bearer._

_Kins of silver turned against,_

_Brutal love at last blood commenced._

_Victims of family, nature, mutants and rage,_

_Murderer trapped in reaper's cage._

_First gone, true to name of tribute._

_Fallen event those astute._

* * *

_Oh my god that 'poem' or whatever it is was so hard to write and it still looks so bad kill me now ahha ;;_

_Review Replies~_

_Sirenys: (first review):  
AWEKLGHAKLGD. No no stahp breathe!  
/v/ no no, she was amazing and it was an honour to write her!  
(second review)  
Ahh thank you bby ;/v/;  
(third review)  
/takes your face and strokes/ precious ty ty ; v ;_

_CrimsonFlarez: Welcome back!  
Haha, I shall ;/v/; Thank you!  
Yes, she did! And congrats! I'm glad, to /throws confetti in the air_

_hardcoreGSfan: (First review)  
LOL yes. We shall study the heart and fanfiction's banishment of the less-than-three!  
LOLYES. Ikr? I honestly don't know what's so bad about school. It's fun to learn about things you're interested in!  
/high fives back/ 8D  
Ruffy, do your job and guard the star!  
Good luck! XD  
(Second review)  
RIGHTTT. Thanks so much for catching that, it's been fixed! C8_

_Snowskeeper: LOLOL. Welcome back!  
Or maybe you can't live without them!  
Thank you ;/v/;  
A-are you sure you can stand after that? XD;;  
OR it might be Dio who does something stupid C8. Just sayin'~_

_LOLOL. But if you chewed the poison food: one, that's kinda really gross, two, did you kiss Giou to get hte food in him? And three, aren't you poisoned now as well? XD;;  
How come so many people can see the future here? Am I missing out on something? O n O  
A-actually that was a mistake haha ;; It was meant to be District 6.  
REVIEW RECEPTION:  
That—stop—that's so bad. XD;;  
llD Glad to know I'm not alone! Same, same here llD  
/has learned not to question/ /simply hands you more effigies/ /hands you effigy of yourself/  
WAIT REALLY HE'S BRITISH? I MUST FIND HIM NOW. BRITISH ACCENTS, HNNNGGGGS FOREVER. The only thing I love more than males speaking French would be males that have a British accent. Hnnggggg I must go watch Baj right away!  
Oh god, I know how that feels D8 It's physically impossible for me to sleep before 11:00 PM unless I ran to China and back and was that tired. XD;; I'm not that bad, but sometimes its annoying I8.  
Awaeglkashgd. No no, depressing stuff is fine! As long as you can feel a little better afterwards from ranting, you can rant all you want, and I'm here to offer support and listen ; v ;  
Well, I really don't know what to say, I'm sorr Try speaking more, little by little? I understand it's somewhat scary at first and things can go wrong and people might not like you, but that's what's happened. All you can do is make an effort and it's up to the world on how to receive it ; v ; But I'm here if you ever want to rant, so go ahead and don't feel too bad, okay? ; v ;  
Pftt—I can barely speak the other one now and I'm a derp at English. XD  
Congrats, you now official belong in the Captiol! Please enjoy your stay.  
Never! D8  
A kraken? XD; Wouldn't it be easier to just see a doctor?  
And oh my god LOL. What does an eyeball taste like, anyways?  
I—I don't either. I forget most of the time, anyways. XD;;_

_WinterBarrows: NO BBY DON'T BE SAD DAY 21 IS COMING SOON ; v ; /strokes your faisu I'm so sorry ; v ;/_

_XxCrystalzxX: Ahaha, I got a little crazy with updates, sorry!  
Aw D8 I hope you're okay! ; v ; /pats/  
Aw! ; A ; I hope the two of you are doing okay! Well, atleast you have each other, right? ; v ;  
That'll be explained soon enough! C: Ahaha sorry it's so confusing! The fall of the demons happens midway in the Games, due to Ley and Dio's death.  
Ahh ;/v/; I'm glad you want to read DT so much! Thank you ; v ;  
A see! I wish her luck, then! ; v ;_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: (first review)  
That. Is. Awesome. That must happen!  
Pfftthaha, yes, that is a true fan! XD  
Ahh, I see! It's good that he did, more for the fans' sake! C:  
Or are you o u o?  
Well, I'll look forward to someday, then! C:  
(second review)  
Miguel? XD;;  
Hmm...xD; Pretty sure it's him.  
Right? D8 _


	50. Day 20

_300 reviews, oh my god. I have no words. I think I just toppled over and fainted. Someone, is this real life?  
I can't believe it. Thank you, thank you guys so much! ;v ; And the Chase Games haven't even started, oh gosh. _

_I finally got around to typing this! And only because GC suddenly died and won't let me back on. XD_

_So this chapter is mostly fluff and dedicated to the amazing WinterBarrows and Melen, who were nice enough to gift me some cash on Grand Chase to be able to cash Lime, who is like the defence tank of my dreams. I call Zero and Lime my tanker bbuies. Either way, Melen, Barrows, thank you so much, bbuies ; v ; /strokes your face/ Anything you want me to write, I'll write for you ; v ;_

_Day 21 will mirror the events happened in this chapter, but from the others' perspective. And things will probably be more angsty. Just a warning u v u_

* * *

Chapter Forty-Eight: Day 20

"Raghh!"

With a cry, Elesis slams her two blades down, barely denting the metal target. Beads of sweat trickled down her face and neck as she stands up, panting heavily and shoulders hunched from the weight of her weapons, with a look of vexation.

"Why am I doing this?" She shouts to the two sitting a little bit away, one with a smug look on her narrowed face, and another with a worried glance.

"Elesis dear," Sharrif drawls, taking a sip of sparkling white champagne as her slanted, high eyebrows raised. "If you're going to fight in the arena, you'll have to do more than just dent metal." She shrugged, shapely tanned shoulders visible under her white chiffon of spun thin silk. "This would be so much easier if you used one sword-"

"I'll hear nothing of that," Elesis snapped. Scowling at the complacent mentor, she turned back and began again, scowl growing deeper as her swords simply slipped off the practice dummies.

Behind her, she could hear the snide giggling of other tributes—namely one purple haired female named Arme—all laughing at her futile efforts. Elesis cursed at them, not afraid to use language she'd learned on the streets attempting to get a job back in One. Atleast she was training hard. Meanwhile, Arme tugged on the sleeve of the quiet, snow-white haired of the male tribute from Two, and whispered something in his ear. The male turned to look at Elesis with an unconcerned gaze, and soon flicked away. She flushed with anger at being thought so low of; not even able to be considered a tribute, and raised heavy arms laden with stress and prepared another half-hearted attack, when suddenly a spark of blue ignited and the target exploded into shrapnel.

Shards of bronze rained down as Elesis saw Arme shriek and dive for cover, the other tributes tripping over each other in their attempt to get away from the deadly hail. The red haired female smirked—serves them right, putting off training to laugh at her instead.

Her enjoyment was quickly ruined as she regained her senses and realized that she had not been the one to explode the dummy. And Arme had been mocking her the whole time, which only left one other magic user—that she was aware of—available to preform such an action.

Ronan Eurdon, as composed as as lithe and polite as usual, in his high black tuxedo with trailing tailcoats and immature white pants. Among the crowds of Serdin, Ronan fit right in with those preferring simple elegance as signals of power.

"You look like you needed some help," he smiled sheepishly and turned his gaze on a cowering Arme.

"I didn't," she retorted back, standing up and releasing her arms from the stiff X position they'd formed to protect her from the metal. "'Least not from you."

Ronan's amused little smile faded. "Elesis-"

"What?" She lashed, taking a step forwards just as he took one back. "Haven't you had enough, Eurdon? Do I have to slap you silly to get my point across? Because believe me, I will. I don't need you, I don't need anyone to look after me! Just because I'm a woman you think I can't take care of myself, huh?"

"I didn't—" Ronan seemed flabbergasted.

"Well you're wrong, _sir Eurdon. _I've been taking care of myself since my parents were dead and I'm fine! I know what I want in my life, and I will get it, despite this whole Chase Games business! And you'll do well with forming allies with me, I'll slit your throat in your sleep!"

Ronan's hand flashed up to his neck as if suspecting to feel blood, and watched as Elesis spat at his feet, close to his polished black shoes. She spun on her heels, shoes kicking dirt on the training arena, mood growing worse as she saw the looks of sympathy Ronan received. Oh great, she was deemed the villain once again. Why couldn't Erudon get that through his thick skull of his; she wasn't interested. Elesis couldn't afford to go around and making relationships that would weaken her resolve in the arena, she needed to get back to One, she needed to get back to Elsword. Family was more important to her than lovers, and if she was going to be ridiculed for it, so be so.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Hey, Lass?" Arme snuggled deeper into his arms, wrapped protectively around her small frame.

"Yeah?" the mentioned male looked down at the mage.

"I've been thinking lately," Arme hesitated, tapping her staff slowly, rhythmically on her exposed legs as she leaned closer to Lass, to his warm body, muscles tensed and ready to move, senses alert.

"About?" Lass questioned, looking slightly uncomfortable at the close contact. Feeling foolish, he looked at the other, hard at training tributes, then at himself, sitting here with Arme.

"My mom."

Lass looked at his companion in surprise, suddenly attentive. "Speak to me, Arme," he gently cooed the girl safe in his arms, waiting for her answer, which he knew would always hold a spark of doubt towards her person.

He honestly doesn't know how all of this started. At first, they were only fellow tributes, brought together through their suffers. Both had intended to keep it that way, Lass having been alone his whole life, Arme too crushed to begin rebuilding herself, much less other relationships. But, through the course of training, Brendan and Saika's encourage and advice to have atleast one ally, and one incident where Lass had stumbled upon a crying, broke Arme, the thief and the mage found they both had much in common, and began to enjoy each others' company.

They weren't anything beyond friends, Lass believes, but he was there when she needed to talk about her fears and doubts eating away at the corners of her sanity, as well as ponder small, random but important memories involving her mother. Lass was quiet and steady, a better listener than any.

"And, I just think, if I had said something, anything, this wouldn't have happened. I feel like it's all my fault, that I should've done something..." Arme was saying, her face a downcast sheet of guilt.

Lass realized with sudden urgency that he had to step in and comfort Arme before her thoughts got even more deadly, but he had never been one with words.

"It wasn't your fault," he intoned quickly as Arme opened her mouth, ready to go on another rant.

The mage stared up at him, light purple eyes clouded with emotion. "Was it not?"

"Even if you did do something," Lass answered her quiet question, speaking quickly so Arme couldn't interrupt. "Serdin is heartless that way. They're shallow, untrustworthy hinds that eliminate anything they deem even a small spark of rebellion. Arme, they're cowards, complete, utter cowards. It was probably best you kept your mouth shut; any misspoken words and you'd be dead. Didn't you hear what happened to Ronan?"

Arme's voice wavered, torn between her own mixed feelings and Lass's reason. "But if I just tried-"

You can try, Arme. Try in the Games. Your mom would want you to stay alive, and your dad's waiting. Try for them."

As he spoke, Lass was struck with a sudden feeling of loneliness. It was so ironic, how good he was at giving advice on this sort of thing, when his own parents had dumped him and flown off to another district, back apparently to another child they valued more than him. It was how things were; most homes only had enough money to barely feed one child, so why have two? He was a mistake and nothing more, his birth situations deeming him useless before he was even born. It was beyond his control, what he had become, and it was all because of his parents' choices. The closest thing to family love he'd gotten were the curious mice that wandered into his cardboard, makeshift home on the streets of Two, his only birthday memories days when he'd return to barely something that could be called home, face and arms bruised from fighting just so he'd have barely enough to fill his stomach until tomorrow, when the whole process was repeated. He'd tried getting pity, he'd tried going up to people and asking for just a little bit of money, telling them he was an orphan with no hope and today was his birthday, but all he'd gotten back were strange glances at his hair, white as the mysterious snow-filled mountains, his eyes too blue and too bright to belong to a beggar, his skin too pale to be native. He was a freakshow, that one child that had the good looks of royalty and yet belonged to the lowest of the low. They'd cast spells on him, attempt to catch him to burn him, drive all means of hope from his small mind until days he held his daggers in his own two trembling hands, the words repeating in his head. Freak. Dirty. Beggar. Doomed. Orphan. Unwanted. And the blood that pooled down, the blood that soaked his dirty rags he used as shoes, the blood that washed onto his iron chains as he laid down next to his stained daggers, awaiting the morning's light to try to escape. Ever since he'd grown up, Lass had knew nothing but the cold touch of his daggers in his hands, reminding him he was a murderer, nothing but a murderer, and his hair, so white that despite all the dyes he used it always went straight back to the pure colour he so hated; nothing was ever white. It was always stained, stained with the sins of this world and the Games.

So what had given him hope?

Arme smiled at Lass through her tears and jumped away from his embrace, as his arms reached forward briefly, wanting her warm body to wash away his cold feelings, but stopped himself as the mage rushed forward and began interacting with the other tributes.

Lass sat alone, back pressed against cold grey stone, in the shadows as he watched the only person he briefly considered a friend run away, just as everyone always did.

He still didn't know where hope was. And he was beginning to give up. Every little action made by every person—though they didn't know it—counted against him, just reminded himself he was a sideshow, the extra wheel that they kept for laughs and then pushed away.

No one cared. And no one would. Allies, please. No one would want him.

_~Dangerous Times~_

The silent halls echoes with the muffled sound of feet padding on downy carpet. A figure with a messy mop of raven black hair embedded with strands of violent dark purple walks at a leisurely pace, striding through the halls with an air of confidence.

Any other person seeing the male in the halls would believe him to be either a peacekeeper going to fetch his uniform for duty or a mistaken tribute, but in truth who the man was and what he came to seek was far from that.

_Two thousand years._

Two thousand years he'd watched the world go by with dead eyes, as rulers came and went and chaos regained more than ever, uncontrolled since the passing of his beloved teammates. Two thousand years he'd watched the human race betray reason, driven by no heroes to take after and greed, simple sins that took over the mind. Two thousand years he had visited the cold stone tombs and hidden ivy-entwined gates everyday, sometimes accompanied by the magenta haired demon that landed him in this whole mess.

But over time, Dio had passed as well, as Zero fell into the abyss, taking Void with him, and Ley disappeared from contact, horrified at Rufus's betrayal. He'd looked his own dying granddaughter in the eyes and shed a single tear, rolling down his cheeks as he realized the world went on, that he'd still be here, even after the world died and his throat was constantly parched with thirst. All injuries would heal, his limbs would grow back even after thrown apart by torture, that his body would recover even when his mind didn't. Two hundred years he'd walked alone, not daring to trust another with his feelings, not after everything he'd ever loved in the world became ashes, not even after he found himself crying at Rufus's funeral, even after all the bounty hunter had done for them. And Dio had clapped him on the back, the magenta haired chief steely in his ways and not nearly as emotional as the highlander. One thousands years they'd wandered together, their bond grown stronger from the memories of lost friends, adventuring the large plains of Xenia, with no worries and each other to keep company in dark times. And then one day, Dio had simply gone out and never returned, and over the course of three weeks Sieghart had to face it; the chieftain was dead. He was alone, alone in this large land, alone with no one he knew, alone with a new Bermesiah he wasn't ready for. Nine hundred years he'd spent wandering the streets as a hooded fugitive, listening to tales of their adventures dismissed as old folklore.

He slowly watched the world progress into what it was now, with Serdin ruling over, Kanavan destroyed, and the dungeons they had so tirelessly cleaned and protected annihilated to become places of human suffering, known as the 12 Districts.

Thoughts plagued his mind as he stepped into a room, the door left loosely open.

Target.

In the middle of the room, a male stood, back turned towards the newcomer.

"Sieghart."

Sieghart spins around, and comes face to face with himself.

The newcomer is steadily built, with tanned muscles tight against fitting black clothing, sculptured features and large grey eyes accompanied with messily styled yet fitting black hair and the same dark purple streaks.

"What-" Sieghart takes a step back, eyes wide. "Who are you?" He asked with confused astonishment, wondering if he was perhaps dreaming,

"Ercnard Sieghart," the stranger introduced himself, bowing formally. "And you're Zeke Sieghart."

Zeke stood there, shocked. He gaped at the double standing before him—how was this possible?

"How-" he cuts himself off, shaking his head and swallowing with a gulp.

Ercnard motioned for him to keep quiet, face monotone. "I'm you."

Zeke gulped again, staring with blank shock at Ercnard. This couldn't be real. He had to be dreaming.

A sharp knock at the door wakes both Siegharts from their stupor, and the door opens slightly to reveal Kieran, nodded and depressing as ever.

"Hey. Giou says to-"

The necromancer stops mid-sentence, face raised to the two lookalikes. He rubs his eyes and pulls the hood slightly away from his face, squinting.

"I-" Kieran seemed a loss for words. "I—I need sleep, I think I see two of you."

Just as Kieran turned to leave the room, muttering something under his breath, Ercnard Sieghart took action. He grabbed the Soluna, which had been resting near Zeke Sieghart's bedstand, and, before Zeke could reach him, Ercnard brought the weapon down hard on Kieran's head.

The male crumpled onto the ground, like a puppet suddenly cut from its strings. His limbs splayed about as Zeke glanced at Ercnard in horror.

"What did you _do?" _Zeke stepped forward. "You probably just killed him!"

His double shrugged. "One less opponent, then," he growled. "Unlike you, I know how to control a Soluna. He's only knocked out."

Zeke glared, unwilling to trust the man. "What do you want?" he demanded.

Ercnard hesitated, mouth open and face uneasy. "I want...answers," he replied, in a careful tone.

"To?" Zeke questioned, stepping forward to face Ercnard straight on. "Who are you to in here, looking like me, knock my buddy out on the head, and then put up this fake air of importance?" Zeke glared. "Get out."

Ercnard stared back, growing angry. "If anything, you're the one's that fake."

"I have a family!" Zeke shouted. "I have a fiancee awaiting my return and a brother going crazy with the taxes and extra lessons to become the new heir! I have people, friends waiting for me, that I want to remember!" He paused, face red and eyes angry. "Who do you have?"

Ercnard's brow creased, and emotion broke his demanding statue.

"Everyone I have is dead." Bitterness was clear in his voice, every word painful and breaking. He bit his lip and looked straight at Zeke, right in the eyes. "Dead," he repeated.

Zeke realized that the man standing before was more than he appeared to be, much, much more.

"Serdin has done things to us." He bowed his head in respect for lost comrades and came to stand beside Ercnard, somewhat understanding the others' icy appearance.

Ercnard broke the ritual, shaking his head with a mournful expression. "Not Serdin. Time."

Zeke looked up in surprise. "Time?"

Ercnard was silent, and with one sweep of his arm he gathered up his travelling robes and headed out the door, picking his way over Kieran's lifeless body.

"Don't speak of me to anyone else," the man spoke over his shoulder, pace easy once again. "Ercnard Sieghart, of District 13."

Zeke scoffed, struck by the others' unpredictable movements. The guy was a big joke. "Is your head alright? There's no District 13."

Ercnard stopped. "There is. I'm the only resident."

"And what's it called?" Zeke mocked. "Surely it would be in Serdin's files."

"It's something even they forgot," Ercnard spoke harshly, face a mask of bitterness.

"And that is?'

"The Grand Chase."

_~Dangerous Times~_

They walked hand-in-hand to the cafeteria, ignoring confused stares. Lire smiled prettily at Ryan through delicate, lengthened eyelashes, a sweet, minty-fresh natural aroma of crushed pine needles floating from her elegantly curved green robes, adorned with laces of skillfully shaped gold, cool against her long, pale fingers. A silver circlet encased her flawless, high forehead and narrow brows, holding back tussles of spun, golden hair.

The male elf flashed a grin back, awestruck at the aristocratic quality of the female. She was breathtakingly alluring, not of this world in her traits and pulchritude. He was so lucky to have her, even in the short time they'd spent together, she had become everything and more to him, second only to Lian in his heart.

He reached out and suddenly took the female in his arms, holding the warm, small body encased in his own. Lire returned Ryan's sudden passionate gesture with a start of surprise, her lovely emerald eyes flickering up to meet his own.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, rather timidly as she squirmed to get away, looking uncomfortable.

"We're together now, right?" Ryan smiled. "It's okay to do things like this."

"No so publicly!" Lire flushed and continued wiggling. "Besides, we're not even that serious yet."

Ryan frowned, arms suddenly limp. "We're not?"

Lire stared up at him. "Ryan," she began, then stopped.

"Yeah?" he urged.

"Let's talk."

"About?" Feeling a sense of dread, Ryan hardly dared to meet her solemn eyes.

"You and me."

_~Dangerous Times~_

Acho didn't know how he landed in this mess. He'd just been walking around, collecting many sponsors for Zero. The tribute was big and strong and hardy, and the rich, noble audience of Serdin had but lets on him as they would a racehorse. He was the Ticketmaster, they the riskers, and Zero the victim. Acho went from seat to seat, shaking hands, receiving paychecks and winks, and flinching everytime a large noble—usually accompanied with a gold encrusted, tall glass of the finest wine imported from Two—slapped him on the back, knocking the air out of his lungs and laughing deafeningly in his ear. Everyone spoke to him of Zero and nothing else, all about how the Games this year would be an easy win for his star tribute. They predicated fame for both mentor and pupil, laughing loudly and commenting him on his appearance and own Games. Acho just laughed nervously and agreed, unsure what else to do. People seemed to have forgotten how they usually scoffed him and his weak tributes, and instead he'd gotten invites to chamber hearings and celebration parties all over the place. No one seemed to be able to get enough of the scrawny mentor and silent but deadly tribute.

So as the swarm of obese, brawling noblemen cleared, Acho sat down in an emptied seat to catch his breath. Who knew dealing with sponsors was such laborious work?

As Acho settled deeper into the velvet chair, he felt arms suddenly warp themselves around his neck. Stroking his collarbone and playing with his upturned collar. For a second, Acho sat there, attempting to comprehend what was happening. Then he jumped up with the alarm that someone was trying to choke him—it'd happened one too many times for him to be lax involving his neck. He spun around to find a lady standing there, smiling slightly in amusement.

Acho inhaled as he faced the strange, wondering. Had she mistaken him for someone else? Her lover, perhaps?

Well, whoever the person was, they were certainly lucky. The woman was lovely, with a gentle figure and structured face. She had a kind expression about her, yet her honey-brown eyes sparkled cheerfully with humour and slightly teasing. Her long brown hair was loose, tumbling off her shoulders in delicate strands.

"Hello," she nodded politely, eyes wandering about up and down him.

"I'm Acho," he blurted.

She stared at him, perplexed. "Nice to meet you."

"Not who you think I am," Acho continued. "I-I mean, who I think you think I am."

She looked on, entertained, as he continued. "Are you lost? I mean, I'm Acho, just Acho, not whoever, Acho."

She laughed, a few clean, ringing tones. "Again, nice to meet you, Acho. I'm Brooklyn, of Vanute, zerp."

Acho stared at her, his dilemma momentarily forgotten. Brooklyn had a slightly accented, clear and vibrant voice that seemed to ring in his ears.

Oh no, this was not happening. Acho had crushes before, many of them in his adolescence and at pretty girls in school, way back in District Five. But he had never thought he'd fall just like that, especially not to someone in Serdin's gaudy audience. But Brooklyn was unlike that, quite normal and stunningly pretty just as she was, plain and simple.

As the day continued on, Acho jumped at every chance to talk to Brooklyn, even it was about Zero and sponsorship. He was like an eager puppy, and he wondered what this would lead to, even with the Chase Games starting soon.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Dio didn't expect to fall in love.

At first, the relationship between him and Ley was only for fun. He'd turn up at her door after training or she'd teleport into his room at midnight. They'd immediately get to business, doing what both wanted and then leaving, without a word.

Somewhere along the line, Dio and Ley began to talk. First it was casual conversation, what the other thought of one particular tribute or another. Then it began to grow more in depth, stories about childhood and found, though rare, memories growing up. Dio found the childhood friend he thought he'd lost forever, and maybe he'd always had feelings for Ley—she was pretty, dangerously witted and powerful, everything he'd been taught to look for in a queen.

The male demon sat on his bed, watching the clock tick by. 11:58. Any minute now and Ley would pop up, face smug and commanding. Except, this time, he would be the one with the surprise.

Love was a strong word, he knew. It destroyed people, personalities, relationships. So why was he falling in love, now of all times, and with Ley of all people?

A sharp rap on his head makes him look up, and Dio sees Ley, luminous teal eyes glowing in the complete darkness of his tribute room. Without a word, Ley crawls into his lap, snuggling into his chest. On impulsive, Dio wraps his arm around the female, still silent.

"Ley," he began, as the female demon turned around to look him in the eyes.

"Hm?" she purred, stroking his neck.

This was it. He, Dio Burning Canyon, former tribe leader and volunteer tribute, was going to admit his feelings for someone he once hated so much: Ley von Crimson River, targetting princess of the allied tribe.

"I think I love you."

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Jin, think about it, please," Amy began again, as she took a sip of the smoothie they were sharing, having just returned from a hard day of training.

Jin shook his head. "Not now, Amy. You know I love you, but my answer remains no."

His girlfriend pouted, arms crossed. "Fine."

Jin smiled gently and came over, wrapping Amy in his arms, kissing her forehead until the female returned his affections.

"I'm sorry, Amy," he spoke. "but I can't break my oath to the Knights. You understand."

Amy nodded, sighing. "I know, Jinny, I know. I just..." she trailed off, uncertain.

Jin nodded, having had this conversation more than enough times in the past few days. "One week, alright? We can live that long, no big deal. And we'll stand up to Serdin and get married as Victors."

"It's like a fairytale," Amy smiled, her tone taking on a dreamy expression.

Jin nodded. "Exactly like a fairytale."

_~Dangerous Times~_

Life liked to play games.

Theo was sure of that, as he looked at Shera, sitting beside him with a slightly tired expression. Lucas had been training them from dawn with no breaks, save from short trips to get a drink of water or to the restroom. The mentor told them it was to prepare them for the mental and physical conditions in the arena, as if that gave him any reason to work them like horses. Still, he didn't complain, knowing it was for his own good. Plus, dropping out and sitting aside earlier than anyone would make him seem weak, and he didn't want that, especially not in front of Shera.

So he continued, battling with equal muscle and wit, memorizing each and every tip that Lucas had to offer. He couldn't afford to lose, not even in practice. Not when he had something he needed to protect.

_~Dangerous Times~_

She had a problem.

The whole thing was silly, Sion told herself millions of times. Why was she fretting about Jin, when they hadn't talked in months? Why was she so jealous of the pink haired announcer from Seven when she should be happy that her friend finally found someone and had true love, even if only for a little while?

Deep down, Sion knew the answer. No matter how much she tried to reject it, there was no doubt; she had feelings for Jin, feelings that slowly grew over the years, until she wanted nothing more than to admit and have him sweep her up in his arms and whisper tender words. Still, she knew it was only a fantasy. Everything seemed to stand in their way: Jin being reassigned to District Seven, and now the Chase Games. She had her chance, she missed it, and this was her life now.

Sometimes, she wanted to cry. Break down and whine about the world, her life, how unfair it all was that some higher up deity was playing her like a puppet on strings.

But she'd love come to realize no one cared. No one would be there to listen or soothe her if she threw a tantrum, no one would bother to glance twice her way if she let on that she was unhappy.

Somewhere between the lines of growing up, Sion had become a normal person, always standing in the shadows. No trace of her would go down in the books, and in time it would be as if she never existed at all.

When did everyone just stop caring?

_~Dangerous Times~_

With two quick slices, Raphel tarot cards spun up into the air, creating mini zephyrs with their striking speed. His weapons hit the practice dummy straight on, straw exploding into the air and carried away by vents as his cards finished with deathly perfect accuracy and zipped back to their owner.

Raphel himself stood waiting, motionless as he silently commanded his cards. Without blinking an eye he completed his given task and turned back to Aalis, the red haired mentor nodding at his achievement.

Raphel began again, his attacks timed and symmetrical, straw falling in his advancing footsteps. He cleared the field and looked back to Aalis, waiting next instructions.

They didn't come. The boy seemed preoccupied, simply glancing once in a while, distracted, to make sure Raphel was still _there. _

Before Raphel could do anything, however, he was suddenly blasted in the face by a strong gust of wind, and he leapt away as rubble rained down, crushing the earth where he just stood.

Looking back, he sees Lime holding her giant gavel, staring worriedly at him. Raising a hand to signal that he was alright, Raphel realized that Lime had been the one the cause the short earthquake. Was the short female really capable of such a thing?

Raphel gulped, suddenly feeling a sense of unease. Against Lime, his cards—and even his water—wouldn't do much, and she was just _one _tribute.

Glancing back at Aalis, Raphel suddenly realized that, sometimes, a mentor's training really did make that small difference between life and death.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"I'm sorry Xion, not now."

With a dismissal wave of her hand, Rin shoved the male away, beginning to grow tired of his overly affectionate, yet gloomy self. She was in Serdin now—she could do anything she wanted, and there was no one to stop her, no one at all!

The thoughts had occurred only overnight, but she had already begun to take action. She wandered outside, to the lantern lit streets and blatant citizens, from the brilliant dresses and incandescent events to the exotic green fields dotted with rainbow flowers, and midday, coral sky. She was away from the gloomy, all the duties. She was away from her neglectful parents, her everyday chores, away from Michael, away from District 11, away from her life. Though she felt slightly guilty to so willingly push away her companions, it was something that had to be done, she understood.

She was a bird. She was flying, seeking the future. She was free.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Come."

Smiling mischievously, she beckoned him over.

As soon as he entered the dark barrier of the day's shadows, she grabbed him and pulled him in for a long, lasting kiss.

His eyes widened as he tried to push her back out of instinct, but she held on, hands tightly gripping his jacket, until finally he gave in, with a satisfied sigh.

She broke the contact, shaking her fair hair out of her deep green eyes. He surged forward again, wanting more, but she stopped him easily with one manicured finger, placed exactly over his heart.

"Tomorrow."

He nodded, eyes begging. "One last one?"

She hesitated, then leaned back in. His wondering eyes met her lucid ones, full of guarded thoughts.

"I couldn't resist you," she breathed, and they began again.

Zeta had gotten the girl of his dreams. Still, even as they made love in a small corner, hidden from all, he wondered. Selena was his, but they were both hiding so many secrets. He hadn't, and wasn't planning to, told her about Razer, and the mentor would grow quiet sometimes, with a faraway look in her delicate green eyes, whenever asked about her own Games.

Whatever. He had her now, and that's what mattered. They could do worse.

And it wasn't like they were going to move forwards, anyways. Ten days, and he would be gone. Forgotten like the yesterday breeze.

* * *

_Sorry this took so long! I need to update more often. XD;;_

_Sirenys: Yay! You'll have your oneshot soon enough C8_

_Sirebutt: LOLOL. Okay, fine, have my crappy excuse of a character xD /throws Roseclere at you/ RoseclereXSirenys, so canon. /slams down hammer labelled "Canon". _

_AHH NO WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT SHE WAS CRAP MY WRITING ABILITIES ARE CRAP BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH BBY ; v ;_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: Ahh, thank you xD; I'm glad you like Rosie u v u_

_/pats/ xD_

_Well, I don't know, but in the original story she's from, everyone got tired of waiting for her to write the words out 8C_

_That would be lovely! Roseclere would probably be very happy! ^^ _

_Hmm..I...I have no idea xD;;_

_WinterBarrows: /LETS YOU LOVE/ AHHH NOO AHH /PATS YOUR HEART/ There there ; v ;_

_LOLOLOL. Your life is awesome, thank you so much ; v ; I'm so glad you think of DT highly enough to remember and be so excited about it! _

_Thank you so much bby /v/ /huggles/_

_AHH YOU FLATTER ME NO IT'S NOT THAT GOOD ;/A/;_

_LOLOL. Well, no worries! I'll have another oneshot for 350 reviews (that is, if I reach that xD;) and you can try to catch that one! C8_

_LOLOL. Oh DT, what have you done? XD_

_XxcrystalzxX: Ahaha, yeah xD;; It's supposed to be that way, it's foreshadowing C8_

_Oh, thank you! I'm already doing that C8 I live off Harry Potter and The Hunger Game And Eragon, too xD What has my life become._

_Well, I don't know, to be honest. XD; As I've said, she's adapted from an original, and in that story people got tired of waiting for her to write because they were meanbutts :c But yes, she could write! _

_Or maybe, someone already ha _

_Shinedown: Aww xD;; Oh well, it's fine! You don't have to. I can fix them on my own time, having you write them down would be too much xD; _

_Ahh, thank you so much /v/ She's really nothing, though ; v ;_

_Thank you, I will!_

_Snowskeeper: Unless she burnt it, which she did/slapped_

_LOL. Thanks? XD;_

_LOLOL. Say, how much money is in that paycheck? /slapped/_

_WHAT IS PRO, BABY DON'T FLATTER ME, DON'T FLATTER ME, NO MORE. Oh my gosh, yes. XD; That's amazing, yes._

_Aw 8C That sucks! Atleast you still have good memories from those times, right?_

_REVIEW RE...I'm not good with words, review something!_

_/applauds/ _

_Nope C8_

_Glad to see you're fighting for the country. Why only the boot, though? XD;  
LOLOL. But Dio is just that way, he's my silly, stupid, blunt little baby ; v ;  
LOL. Pretty sure Giou would wake up from that. XD;  
And doesn't that mean Baen is poisoned? _

_Oh oh. Tell me what? C:  
Lol. But Amy beats Jin more than 50% of the time xD;;  
So you just threw yourself into the fire?  
Thank you C8  
...Good point xDl  
Take it off, take it all off/slapped  
Registered?  
Guess?  
Lol. You and I both, then. Let's continue pretending, then xD _


	51. Day 21

_Hey, hey, so I return! C8 I finally overcame my little author's block and awkward time, and about to get back into storywriting action! I'm a bit rusty, so apologizes for that!_

_I just have to thank everyone that's stuck with DT and its changes. It really wasn't planned out all that nicely, haha;; But thanks for putting up with that! I can't even begin to repay you, but I can finish DT, in the least!_

_Special thanks go to Sirenys, MelenMelon, and WinterBarrows for having to deal with my moods and doubts. Thanks for putting them to rest, guys! C8  
And of course, thanks to the reviewers. You guys are amazing, keep it up! O v O_

_Oh, and, I recently joined the Game of Thrones fandom. I'm buying the books as soon as I have enough money, and this summer I will just read, read, and read! Also, Theon is my world and everything is Theon and everything hurts._

* * *

Chapter Fourty-Nine: Day 21

She won't stop. She can't stop. Not until she's mastered dual wielding, not until she can beat every single person on the training field and more. She knows these people are just taking it easy. In the arena, they're aiming to kill. She needs to be prepared for that.

Not stopping to eat, to rest, Elesis practices diligently, again and again. The words of her father come back as beads of sweat run down her face and into her shirt, words that he'd often repeat when she found herself frustrated with something. Words she never treasured or realized the true meaning until now.

She fights for Elsword. She fights for her family. She fights for District One. She fights for herself.

And she will win.

_~Dangerous Times~_

He's doing everything he can. Absolutely everything. He runs from room to room, palace to palace, noble to noble, mentor to mentor. He trains hard, until his forehead and neck is beaded with sweat and his breath comes out in loud, jagged rasps that echo around the darkened, silent training arena, his sleeping tributes peacefully dreaming away above.

But he doesn't train to win. Why would he? Fate loved to screw with him. If he wanted to win, there was no way that would happen. He knew, he knew deep down that it was clear he would die. What were the odds? Certainly a starved, skinny nobody from District Two that pickpocketed half the citizens would never survive even a full week. Serdin controlled the games, controlled the tributes themselves.

His training was only to prove to himself that he could be a good friend,that if handed the chance he would rush in and prevent his allies from death. He didn't mind being the martyr, as long as it meant he was somewhat important.

_~Dangerous Times~_

The Soluna sat next to his oak bedpost, the blade sharpened and ready for battle. He goes over to it, reaching out with a gloved hand. Half expecting the weapon to dissolve, his hand clenches around the solid handle and he stares at it, unsure.

His normally bright grey eyes cloud over as he recalls the earlier events; they should've happened. They happened. He knows it. Or was he just too unsure?

It couldn't have been a dream. It felt too real. He was losing his mind, pondering over this. But he needed an answer, he just couldn't find one.

And that's what enraged him so much.

_~Dangerous Times~_

He runs. At lightning fast speed through the darkened woods, touched by dusk's wings. Branches scratch at his exposed arms, face, and legs. Eyes barely open, breath coming in ragged gasps as he flings himself onto the ground, legs too weak to continue. Words echo in his mind, heart drumming against his chest. He rolls to lie on his back and stares up at the darkened sky, the luminous lights of Serdin.

He was wrong. Why did he do that? He would do anything, anything at all to go back in time, to keep a calm head and not make rash decisions. He didn't listen to her reasoning. He was too caught up in his fantasy, a fantasy where everything played out. Of course nothing could've happened. They'd only known each other for, what, a week? And soon enough, everyone would die.

They were only strangers, again.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Slice, slice. In unison the blades dance, his larger and heavier, dealing damage equal to the ground and dummy. Hers light and floating, small, deadly darts that obeyed every small flick of her wrists.

Yet as they practised, repeating the same moves, he found it rather lacking. They both did. It was unspoken, yet they could all sense it.

They were all preparing for death. Each move of muscle, each sigh released as straw exploded and scattered all around.

Simply, no one had anything to fight for.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"No," she blurted.

Dio stared back at her, surprised.

"No you don't," she repeated.

Dio looked confused. "I'm pretty sure I do."

"No you don't!" Raising her voice, Ley was firm. "You can't."

Dio raised an eyebrow, not pleased. "And that's because?"  
Ley just shook her head. "This was a mistake. All of this. We were fooling around, Dio! You can't expect that I'd feel the same way! All along, we were just using each other as stress relievers! As sex buddies! There's no way, absolutely none, that anything could've happened!"

The demon chief was uncharacteristically silent, and with a final sharp glance Ley turned on her heels and teleported out, back to Duell.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Jin Burning!"

He tensed, every tendril in his body tight, and kicked at the dummy. As soon as his foot came in contact with the hard metal plate, it promptly shattered into a million pieces that shattered around him and the astonished mentor.

"What was..that?" The spider clicked, and Jin shivered at her harsh voice, like nails grating rock. Not melodious, that was for sure.

"My new skill," he reported.

Arcana raised an eyebrow—or atleast, he thinks she did. It was hard to tell, with her strange features. "I've never seen or heard of anything like it."

"That's because I made it up," he replied back, tone blunt and businesslike.

"Oh?" The female questioned, and leaned forward. "Tell me about it."

"It's composed of my burning," Jin stated, staring back into her lucid, pure black eyes. He would not look away. He would not give in.

"And?" she urged.

"I want to protect Amy with it." He stared straight at her, prepared.

She laughed. Held up her head and let loose a few harsh tones, drifting into the air. "Oh, my poor, precious knight. How can you protect someone you are destined to kill?"

"I'm not destined to do anything."

She stopped mid-sentence, looking at him.

"Of course." Her reply surprised him. "Not destined, ordered. Can you follow the orders you are given by your superiors?" She leaned in closer to him, her pure-black eyes scanning his face, impossible to read. She spoke quickly, too fast for him to intercept. "Surely the Silver Knights have pounded diligence into you at a young age. Despite your efforts, you are still commanded to listen and obey the law. Are you going to take flight with a girl you barely know, so that they sing songs of your foolishness and hunt you both down and drive a stake through her heart in front of you? What do you want to do, Jin?"

She paused, expecting a quick comeback, but for once Jin was speechless.

"Will you be the one to snap her pretty little neck, or be the false hope responsible for it?"

_~Dangerous Times~_

"So you're going to become Serdin's _dog?" _

Theo stared at Rufus, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Listen," the gunsman replied, dead calm. "You have Shera. You want to protect her, correct?"

"I'm not going to sell my soul to the devil to do so!" Theo snapped.

Rufus remained impassive. "I'm not asking you to." He was curt, face sour. "As I was saying, you have Shera to protect. So many tributes have made relationships, allies to trust. But I'm alone, and I will always be. That's why I'm going to accept Serdin's offer. If I hunt and kill tributes sponsors are placing bets on to die and get them money, they'll keep me alive. It's a system."

"Traitor," Theo hissed. "During these times, we're supposed to stick together, not backstab each other at the nearest chance."

Rufus stared at Theo, vibrant eyes seemingly glowing as he leaned back on the wall. For a second, fear was shown clear in his magenta eyes, and Theo realized that Rufus was just as afraid for his neck than the other person, only he was utterly alone.

"In case we're on the same page, nothing we do here will guarantee us a happy ending," the newly-made bounty hunter hissed. "I'm doing what I can do to stay alive."

_~Dangerous Times~_

He smiled.

As he passed the crimson-haired Silver Knight in the dining hall, he flashed a grin and nodded at the other.

Jin stared at him, surprised, unsure what to do at this sudden show of affection. Before the Silver Knight could reply, Asin walked away, still with that smile plastered on his face. He looked around and everyone he saw, he greeted with the exact smile, and he got the exact response: either a nervous smile back, the other attempting to read his motive, or a completely blank-faced stare as he quickly moved away.

He didn't know why everyone was so surprised. He was simply exercising his cheek muscles.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Lime, can I, ah, talk to you?"

As she left the training arena, Aceline called her back. Curious, the doe-eyed Holy Knight returned, her hammer dragging behind.

"Yes?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side.

"Listen, about...today," Aceline spoke carefully, keeping eye contact with Lime. "You should be careful about what you say and what alliances you make," the mentor said quickly, before Lime could reply.

Surprised, the girl's eyes widened. "Why? Has something happened?"

Aceline shook her head. "it's not that. It's your...ability.'

Lime looked puzzled.

Aceline sighed and spoke as if attempting to explain to a very young child. "Never has there been a tribute who can both deal devastating damage and heal the nastiest of wounds. If the wrong people find out, you might be used for unwanted reasons."

"But it's common in the Holy Knights."

"Never has there been a Holy Knight for a tribute."

Lime opened her red mouth, forming a perfect little O, but couldn't find anything else to talk about. She closed her gaping mouth and nodded, speaking. "Thank you for your words. I'll be careful."

Aceline just nodded, lips pressed tightly together. "Alright."

As Lime turned to go, the Holy Knight suddenly remembered something and turned back, slowly, as if afraid to speak.

"Wait. How do you know that I can heal?"

Aceline was turned, shifting through papers. She spoke without a second thought, right over her shoulder. "Lime, you told me yourself a few days ago."

"No I didn't." She never talked about her abilities; that would be bragging.

Aceline sighed. "Common. Just as you say something you forget it."

Lime frowned. Had she really spoken about her healing powers with Aceline? She and the mentor kept a strictly mentor-tribute relationship, nothing more. Lime doubted she'd ever gone outside the training arena with Aceline, much less bragged about skills.

She left the arena, feeling confused.

~_Dangerous Times~_

"You never told me you had God-mode." The mentor sounded amused.

Rin flushed slightly. "I don't know where that came from!"

Michael just winked. "Oh yes. And I suppose you just drew your inner strength and suddenly became a god?"

"...Actually, that's pretty much more or less what happened."

Michael shook his head. "That doesn't just _happen, _Rin. Normal people can't contract the higher powers."

"I'm an exception."

The mentor stared at her, as if trying to read her thoughts. "Right."

She refused to give him anything as kept her voice casual, words varying. "It just happened."

Michael nodded this time, tone monotone. "Right."

"Well, I'm hungry. I suppose I'll go and eat." With that, she headed away from the mentor, feeling his sharp gaze on her back. Pacing quicker, she headed towards the mess hall, thoughts jumbled.

What had really happened? She'd transformed, yes, but what had been the _thing _she'd become?

As if she didn't have enough to worry about already, being a tribute and the dreaded Chase Games drawing closer, now she had to make sure the Malevolent Horde didn't come out and murder everything in sight.

As if she didn't have enough responsibilities already.

_~Dangerous Times~_

He had to stop this. It was madness.

But it felt so good.

Cuddling together on the couch. Hot chocolate and TV. Random little talks in the middle of the night. Sneaking outside.

_I love her. _He tells himself again and again, as he looks at her perfect shape, beautiful face, and lucid eyes, unblinking, attempting to memorize every aspect of her person.

_I love her. I can't have her._

* * *

_Aaand that's that! It really does feel good to be writing once again!_

_Also, just a heads-up, I will be starting another fic! It's going to be called Tomorrow Is A New Day, and features all of the normal pairings, as well as some little otps of mine, and will include a modern day AU with lots and lots of angst! So check it out once it comes, please and thank you!_

_That doesn't mean I'll be abandoning DT, though. I intend to juggle all my stories together now that I have no distractions from school!_

_Review replies: (To both chapters, oh dear...)_

_WinterBarrows; INDEED YES_

_Sirenys: LOLWHAT—failed making love maybe psh plz.  
AHHH THANK/squshies your face/ omg stahp all that praise /v/  
YES HARRY POTTER REFRENCE THIS IS WHY I LOVE YOU  
Actually maybe not I changed so much stuff omg its just a plot hole now haha/laughs pitifully  
ALKHWEKLSG omg thank but no omg stahp DT isn't that good omg you  
LOLOL._

_Zerp: LOLOL. Glad you're enjoying your Acho! 8D  
Until later, when the KieranXSieg shall return full force!/piano/  
Yessss~!  
LOLOL. Okay, sounds great! Comment away, thank you so much /v/  
LOL. True, true enough! And we talk so much now, yay!  
/LETS YOU LOVE ME/ /v/  
AND YES DIP-KUN AND SIEGHARP-SENSEI MUST PREVAIL!  
FUCK BRINGER OMG. True enough, though-/slapped/ I mean, have you seen those abs?/goes off to dream of Dio  
WHAAAAA THANK OMG BUT WHAT PRO CHAPTER THE ONLY PRO I SEE HERE IS YOU.  
Omg no! No worries, Angsty emo Rufup-chan is here! He was just late to this chapter, with his Starbucks and iPhone, aw ye.  
ALKHWEGKSG OMG NO STAHP IT YOU/ZERPS YOU BACK/_

_ChaosSeeker: Hello~! It really has been a long time, how are you?  
Thank you so much ;/v/; you are, too!  
Whaa, thank you! You flatter me ;/v/; I shall! And happy writing to you, too!  
I did, and Kaistern and Stella shall appear very soon! ^^_

_XxCrystalxX: Ahaha, yes! I've certainly been very busy ; v ;  
Wha, really? Well, I hope she enjoys her stories, then! ^^  
Ahh...okay, I'll attempt to explain all of this, but there will be spoilers, so...  
SPOILER WARNING (Or maybe not so much)  
1. It was only a dream. Perhaps the stress of being a tribute?  
2. Reincarnation. That isn't the original Duell.  
3. Perhaps the new Oz recreated Grandark, just as New Zero was made once again? I'm not sure, I haven't thought about that much, thanks for mentioning! I'll see if I can think of anything!  
4. Either Gran was recreated or just kept shut because the whole thing was kind of strange, I suppose!_

_Snowskeeper: Sorry! D8 I'll try to add him more in the next few chapters and Games!  
Thank you~ ; v ;  
LOLOl. Great, you say?  
LOLOl. Maybe beat Acho up and then sulk.  
LOLYES DIO STAHP.  
LOLOL. Dio starts all the warz with his abz.  
WMDs?  
LOLOMGWHAT. Yes, fairytales are really messed up lD" But let Jin keep his peace of mind before I shatter it completely!  
LOL.  
Omg I'm sorry lD it must be pretty awkward llD I'll try to stop lD  
LOL. I do agree to that, though. Elesis is awesome!  
Yay for breaking physics and not doing research before I update!  
LOL. Hipster!Sieghart.  
Burnt...wood! (I honestly have no idea what this convo was about before, oops!)  
O v O  
Omg what.  
LOLOl. Then look, look!  
No! Kind of! Yes!  
/applauds louder/  
Nope!  
LOL. Or they just don't wanna make the effort?  
Thanks C8  
Oh dear. That'd be...interesting.  
Why not? D8  
Well, she does say only a little love and maybe affection ;D  
Oh dear. True enough, though! What are the voodoo dolls reserved for?  
...Handy.  
LOL. Yes yes, you most certainly should be registered.  
...Ew. Ew ew ew.  
I can't understand French, sadly lD_

_VICTOR OF REVIEW: /huggles you/ Thank you so much omg this moment akwleghasgd ;/A/;;;_

_Gracielle Thycerosia: Thank you so much! C8_

_Guardpuppy: We've already cleared thisup in PMs, thank goodness C8  
I'll just state it here once and for all to finally just clear things up!  
I wasn't talking about you, nor any other person on this site! Guardpuppy, you are a wonderful person and equally awesome author, and I really do enjoy your fics! ^^  
That comment was only there because lately I've been getting hate on both anon and GC for killing off someone in DT or not giving someone the Victorship. Either its that, or they seem to think I'm a miracle and I can write all the stories and write for them, which is originally very flattering, but gets tiring if they literally want to force you to write them a story. There's also the issue of chapters either being too short or too long and plot holes, which I am well aware of and so sorry for, but getting daily reminded of that isn't very nice I8  
So no, I wasn't insulting you! Sorry if it seemed that way ^^ I was just tired of getting bashed on for some certain things or assumed that I can do anything for anything. I do like to help, but there are some things I can't and won't do!  
So, either way, thank you for remaining calm and understanding u v u_

_hardcoreGSfan: LOLOL. Rufus, let the nice lady hug you! D8  
Ah, okay! Well, I hope I answered all of them in her review reply! ; v ;_

_Sirenys: ZUKOSCREECHES BACK YES I DID  
Ahh thank ; v ; and I feel much better, thanks to you, bb _

_Snowskeeper: We already PMed about this lD Thank you so much, though! ; v ;_

_hardcoreGSfan: Thank you so so much! ;/v/; I really do feel much better and your review helped!  
That's oka Thanks for taking the time to just review and say that sentence, it really does make a difference! ; v ; /huggles/_

_XxcrystalxX: And continue it I shall!  
Thank you~ u v u_

_SnowSummer: Thank you! ; v ;  
I shall, and I do! ^^  
Ahaha, thank you so much! /huggles/ It really is uplifting to see something like that ; v ;_

_RubyCrusade: Aw yee, all the ArmeXLass!  
Ahaha, oh my gosh, thank you so much! ;/v/;  
Oh geeze..Well, I did update before Christmas, which is good!  
Whaa, oh my gosh, thank you so much! ;/A/; /gives shiny star/ Thank you for taking the time to read and review, you have no idea what it means to me! ; v ; and all those compliments, oh my gosh, thank you! /huggles/ _

_Wew, it's been a while since I typed something so lengthy! I'm actually kinda tired, now, oh gosh. Well, I'm going to go get some Skittles from the kitchen and sit down to watch some GoT! I'll try to update ASAP, and I really do want to get to the Chase Games!_

_Until that, then! _


	52. Day 22

_Heyo~! Another update, yay!_

_Nothing really to say here, I suppose. The two judges are the amazing ChaosSeeker's characters, Kaistern and Stella, who will stay for the training session chapters!_

* * *

Chapter Fifty: Day 22

The days passed by all too quickly, and soon enough the dreaded end day was approaching. However, before that, there were still the necessaries. Maids were exhausted, running from store to store to kitchen to chef, gathering the requested supplies to make the final feast one that would outshine last year's and be gossiped about for weeks. Gamemakers were equally stressed for time, fixing and adding last minute touches to the arena and designed mutts, brainstorming new ways to torment the tributes for the viewers' pleasure. But most importantly, it was time for the final training sessions.

Held in a wide, grey room with a variety of weapons and targets, the final training session was an appointment made for all tributes, one following the other, to test their abilities. Said tribute would enter the room and display their skillset, judged carefully by trained professionals. They would rank the tribute on a scale of one through ten, one being ensured death and ten as ensured Victor. The numbers were not only for Serdin to find out who to focus on once in air, but also for sponsors to decide who to place their money on. In all, it was ten minutes to gain it all or lose it all.

The mentors had been to their rooms, speaking in hushed, urgent tones, convincing them why it was absolutely necessary to do everything their body was capable of in those short minutes.

Elesis stood at the door leading to the arena, jaw set. Any moment now, and the silver doors would side open and her time would begin.

Thank goodness she was one of the first, and not dead last. Maybe they'll go easy. Maybe they won't know what to expect and mark her easier than the rest.

With a small _ding!, _the doors disappeared in a flash of metallic silver, and the ominous darkness beckoned.

She swallowed, leaving her doubts behind in the waiting room, and headed inside, ignoring the small _good luck _Ronan gave her.

Now or never.

She marched up to the weapon table and stole a peek at the judges, surprised to find only two people sitting side by side in velvet chairs, hands slightly touching. The male had black hair and flint-grey eyes, wearing a fine crimson jacket decorated with furs.

If he represented winter, then the girl sitting next to him certainly opposed, with a sleeveless jacket open to reveal another sleeveless shirt, her golden hair brushed and falling around her in silky sheets. Emerald eyes wide, both were stony-faced as they sat, not moving or speaking. The only thing that moved were their eyes—Elesis could feel it, their gaze following her as one with her every movement.

She directed her march from the table to directly in front of them.

"Elesis Sieghart, District One." She gave a stiff bow, as ordered by Sharrif before the event had started.

The male gave a tiny nod, one she nearly missed.

"Commence." His voice was deep, rich and powerful, but also holding a tint of sadness. His face remained impassive as Elesis spun on her heels and promptly picked up the Ssanggeom, lying shadowed in the corners of the table.

Slightly thrown off course by the absolute lack of expression, Elesis cleared her throat, the sound echoing throughout the room.

She had three skills to do, special moves she developed with Sharrif. As much as she hated working with the untrustworthy mentor, Elesis did have to admit Sharrif was very creative in a number of areas, including skill naming.

She took a deep breath, exhaled, and did a couple of quick swings and jumps, stringing together a few moves to create a combo, just to show she knew what she was doing.

She stopped soon after, and then it truly began.

"Round Crash!" She yelled as she smashed the two swords down onto the dummy's head, creating a whirlwind of straw as she hooked up and sent the practice target flying.

It hit the wall and slumped down as Elesis turned her head to see the judges' reaction.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She'd have to step it up if she wanted anything close to a good score.

"Fated Circle!" She had come up with most of the skill names herself, and was very proud. Labelling a special move felt almost as good as naming a newborn, in her opinion.

Touching the hilts of her swords together, she tapped into her mana reserve and began spinning, starting slowly but growing faster with each millisecond. A wheel appeared where her blades sliced the air, smoking with red-white flames. Finally, she gave a final shout for good measure and chucked the loose circle with all her might at a group of dummies.

Straw exploded and drifted all around, as the blonde female reached up a graceful hand to pick strands out of her silky hair, while the male marked something down on a sheet.

"How many more skills?" He stared at her with intense grey eyes, face emotionless.

She swallowed. "Two." Were they bored already?

He said nothing, only nodded and gestured for her to continue.

"Chaos Saviour!" She didn't spare a moment as she drew out mana again, the misty flames forming as she spun and jumped, quicker than before, and threw down a giant wave. As soon as the waves hit, the dummies disappeared. With a smug smile, she watched as even the remaining straw lying on the ground burnt up, and thought she saw a tiny nod and flicker of interest from the judges.

Elesis took a deep breath, a moment to regain her deprived mana. The seconds dragged into slow minutes as she realized she was utterly exhausted from straining her energy so heavily.

_One more skill, Elesis. You can do it. Ultimate time. _She told herself as she got into position, and disappeared.

The judges' eyebrow raised in surprise as she reappeared again, slamming her swords down.

"Genocide!" Beneath her, the ground shook as a flaming tornado was summoned, wrecking havoc everywhere it touched. The room became a bloodbath of hay carcasses as the tornado soared over the metal ground, and Elesis smirked.

When the winds and flames finally died down, Elesis dropped her swords onto the table and half-stumbled over to the judges, so tired her vision began to swim, unable to focus. Never had she worked both her physical skills together with what little mana she had like this. Hopefully her efforts paid off.

Both the male and the female were busy scribbling as she walked up.

The female lifted her golden head to stare at her for a second, before a small smile flickered over her face, and she looked at the closed doors.

"You may go." Her voice was pleasant, orderly but not unkind. Elesis dragged herself towards the doors and the into the bright waiting room, collapsing as soon as she reached her seat. Tributes surrounded her, all wanting to know what it was like.

"What's your score?"

"How much mana did you use?"

"How many skills?"

"Ultimate?"

"What do I say?"

"Are there prepared weapons?"

"Is it tiring?"

Elesis mumbled weak, unfinished answers as she leaned back and swept her messy, limp hair from her sweaty forehead. Finally, Sharrif broke the needy crowd.

"Ronan, you're up."

Said spell knight gulped, and, shooting a few nervous glances at his fellow tributes, slowly made his way in.

The doors closed behind him in a flash, making his ponytail flutter up in the gust created. Immediately, he made his way to where the judges sat, and bowed.

"Ronan Eurdon of District One," he paused, uncertain. "Um, I use both white and black magic-"

"Pick one."

He nodded quickly and dashed to the weapon rack, aware he was timed. Picking up the Tyfing and gloves, he slid the leather on and picked up the sword, feeling the familiar shudder of mana the sword contained naturally.

He'd made up his mind to use black magic, which was built more for impressive attacks than borderline support, and begn.

He shout a couple balls of magical energy and stabbed halfheartedly at a doll, then moved onto his skillset he'd developed in the course of training.

"Shadow Stinger!" He thrust once, a long strike, then realized his mistake.

His thrust had pushed the dummy too far, making the several quick, short stabs after useless. Ronan flushed as he stared at the unharmed dummy, it's straw-stuffed arm lying useless at the side, cut from his first and only slash.

Regaining his composure, he moved on, determined to make the best of the three remaining skills.

"Rock Blaster!" Summoning mana, he fired two rocket-shaped blasts of energy from a blue spell circle, then jumped up, firing more in quick succession. The target fell under the blasts, reduced to strands of hay. With an immense feeling of satisfaction, Ronan landed and prepared himself once more, taking no breaks. After all, a good spellcaster had to be able to cast spell after spell.

"Tornado Stinger!" He wasn't very creative with names, but atleast they weren't marking him on that. He leapt up and summoned bright blue blades, glistening with runes and crackling energy. They rotated as he descended, flinging the fresh dummy into the air, then directing the swords he fired the blades at the targets, each blade shattering into sparkles of magic. A beautiful, deadly scene.

He took advantage of the seconds spared as his blades ripped dummies to pieces to gather enough mana in preparation for his last, ultimate skill.

"Tempest Blade!" He walked up to the nearest dummy, stepping over stacks of straw as he did so—results of both his and Elesis' work—and a spherical shroud of silver, flashing swords shimmered into existence and gathered around Ronan's walking form, striking at anything that came within range, poised to protect Ronan. He paraded across the room for a bit, allowing the swords to go crazy, before he found his mana nearly completely empty and allowed the swords to fade, coming to a halt in front of the judges.

The male nodded at him, and Ronan bowed once and left.

Outside, he followed Elesis' lead and immediately sat down, and was crowded in similar fashion.

"How'd it go?" Was the main question asked, and Ronan lifted his bowed head to give a small smile.

"Don't worry about it, just do your best."

Someone scoffed, but Arme, who had been sitting with her knees pressed tightly together and knuckles white from clenching her hands, looked at him appreciatively, standing up.

"I guess I'm next," she said to no one in particular, voice trembling. As she turned to leave, Lass grabbed her hand.

"Good luck," his lucid, clear blue eyes met her's, and she shot him a grateful smile before turning to go.

"You too."

She headed into the open doors, gulping at the ominous darkness. Grateful, she headed towards the dim source of light; the judges' chairs and platform.

"A-Arme Glenstid, District Two tribute," she said, voice small.

"Commence."

Shrinking under the emotionless glances of the two, Arme picked up the large war staff, slightly staggering.

"O-Oh," she spoke timidly, and looked down as they glanced at her.

"I use white and black-"

"Pick one." The answer was short and blunt, and Arme huffed. She was originally shy at the thought of pleasing such skilled Serdin nobles, but if they were going to interrupt her and dismiss her so easily, it was better not to give them the satisfaction after all.

Slightly sulking, she wandered away from the platform and prepared her mana.

"The Holy Light will lead us!" She raised her staff up, the tip beginning to glow, and she felt the pure mana flow through her blood, energizing her. She quickly refilled nad ppinted her staff forward, twirling in a circle.

"Ice Ball!"

A snowflake flew from her tip of her staff, straight forward, and trapped five dummies in ice, frost creeping up the loose straw. Without hesitating, she spun her staff around and laughed.

"Freezing Spear!"

She sent a row of sharp, glistening icicles towards the trapped dummies, sending them flying into the air as the ice broke and the dummies were swiftly impaled on shining ice.

The final touch. She spun her staff once again, forgetting where was was momentarily, caught up in the thrill of spellcasting.

"Air Blast!" A magical enchantment circle formed where her staff sliced the air, glowing green as hot air shot out, with such force papers fluttered and untargeted dummies toppled over. No matter. She'd take out the rest soon enough.

As the blast faded away, straw melted into nothing, and Arme raised her staff up for a quick charge before rising into the air, prepared for her final septette.

"The..End!" Her voice faded on a giggle as her form shimmered and she was cloaked in invisibility, just as the skies above began to rumble and the very building shook. The judges shifted on their chairs, looking wary.

Like falling raindrops, meteors the size of houses, flaming and radiating heat crashed onto the steel floor, rendering it hot to the touch. Dummies were set aflame, fire burning through loose straw and cheap rope. The floor blazed with fire as Arme lowered herself down just in front of the doors, smiling smugly. She nodded at the judges once, then turned and left, the doors swinging open as a long _ding!, _echoed.

Time up.

As she entered the waiting room, she collapsed onto Lass, who had been waiting his turn.

"Hey!" He seemed surprised, staggering under her weight. "You okay?"

"Fine," she mumbled, giving a small, faint smile, her vigour depleted as the strain of using such mana suddenly caught up. "Good luck with your testing."

Lass gently helped her down on a seat, patting her arm. "Don't worry about me."

She just nodded, slumping down beside Ronan—who looked exhausted but victorious—and Elesis—who was basically asleep.

"Good luck," Arme said again, halfheartedly, as Lass headed into the room.

"Commence."

Immediately he picked up his nodachi and began, mind cleared of everything but himself and his skills. This was his only chance to impress the judges, and prove to the sponsors that the pickpocket from District Two was worth any coin.

"Rage Cutter!" He did a quick slash, the dummy falling to his feet. Right after, he started again.

"Phantom Blade!" The skill names were _not _his idea. The withdraws of working with Arme, Brendan, and Saika, who were all...creative people o say the least.

"Blade Spirit!" He tapped into his small reservoir of mana, to enchant his blade, growing twice its size. He slashed. Once. Twice. Straw rained down above. Thrice. And finished.

Looking back on his experience, he realized he should have glanced back and watched the judges, sitting nonchalantly with nothing shown on their faces. Unfortunately, he was just too caught up in the timing and way too focused to think about other, important matters.

"Quick End Slash!" He rushed into action and used the mana that was left in his body to slash across the room, knocking down dummies and opening their stomachs, exposing hay entrails.

Once finished, he sheathed his nodachi and picked his way over burnt hay—strange—towards the platform where the judges sat.

"Dismissed." The male wasn't even looking at him, his head instead turned to stare lovingly at the female, who stiffed a yawn and gazed back, meeting the other's eyes.

Lass blinked once, and walked stiffly towards the door, still shut firm. Dimly he thought that his time was still far from over, but he was all out of fancy tricks.

When at last the doors were ordered open, a bunch of tributes watching the clock turned, surprised, to see him.

Lass simply shrugged. "Finished early."

Sieghart glared at him, then threw his head back and laughed. "Guess I'm up, then." He winked at Mari, who blushed and muttered a small "good luck", as other tributes gathered around the popular prime knight and wished him the best.

Sieghart shook his head and calmed worries, always with that easygoing smile.

"Don't worry about it. Piece of cake, really!" he said, and headed into the training chamber.

"Zeke Sieghart. District Three." He smiled. "Can I start?"

The female nodded, watching him closely. "Of course."

Sieghart winked. "Thank you, fair lady."

The male cleared his throat, slightly louder than needed.

"I've brought my own weapon," Sieghart continued. "That's not against the rules, right?" He flashed a sheepish grin.

"Not at all. Start."

Jogging back to retrieve the Soluna from the waiting room, he gave the wide-eyed tributes a quick thumbs up, then disappeared back into the cold metal doors, and began his assessment.

He relaxed at first, swinging the Soluna around and taking the heads off a few dummies, using what remained of Lass' time to fuel himself up with mana, and, his speciality, rage.

A few minutes before his time actually began, Sieghart decided to jsut get it over with and perhaps give Kieran some extra time. He was so thoughtful.

"Highlander Assault!" He singled out one dummy and jabbed with Sol, then brought Luna in for the final hit. Not very impressive, he'd admit, but he was just getting started.

"Soul Edge!" Using a bit of mana fuelled with rage, he jumped up and smashed down onto three dummies, creating a purple flash as the targets promptly fell apart.

"Unlimited Blade!" While the bodies were still drifting down, Sieghart launched into his third attack, and his favourite. Drawing almost all his mana, he began to slash at lightning fast speeds, attacking from every angle. Straw littered the battlefield, as fresh dummies—that had just been brought in by helpers after the first few tributes made short work of all the already prepared ones—were sliced brutally apart.

Last attack. Stopping to catch his breath, Sieghart smirked.

"You'll have to bring in new dummies after I'm done," he taunted, feeling confident.

"Birth of Blades!" He summoned seven greatswords that flew around, leaving light purple streaks in the air as they sliced everything up in neat rows. And Sieghart sat in the middle of it all, his signature smirk clear.

"Sorry for the mess." While his blades danced, he headed out.

"Brought you some extra time," he addressed the hooded figure leaning on the wall next to the door.

"I'm jumping for joy," Kieran deadpanned.

"You know you're grateful."

"In your dreams." Was the flat answer.

"Go out there and kill those frogs," he smiled.

"Frogs?" The necromancer looked confused. "The training dummies are _frogs?" _

"They are if you ask for it."

Kieran just sighed, slightly amused. "I'm wasting my time."

When he headed inside and to the judges' chairs, Kieran noticed that the dummies were the ordinary straw-filled ones they practised with before. _Frogs, he says..._

"Kieran Roarke. District Three."

"Commence."

He picked a simple, large wooden staff from the weapon table and drew out his opal skull from his carry-on, then stood and began.

He started by summoning some spirits and small undead creatures to beat around a few dummies while he charged for higher levelled skills. As soon as he was fully prepared, he prepared a buff, and summoned more creatures—bigger and stronger this time—to replace the weaker ones beginning to fail. Once that was out of the way, he waved his staff again and cursed a couple of dummies, turning them a shade darker and even having a few fall apart on its own.

Without a word, he focused again, and, this time, summoned a giant earth golem that he climbed onto and ordered it to start smashing dummies here and there.

After noticing a few targets slipping between the golem's clumsy fingers, he smiled slightly and waved his staff. _That can be easily fixed._

Roots erupted from the steel floor and held dummies in place, allowing even more mass slaughter.

"Impressive," the male gestured that he could go, and Kieran rode out from the room on a golem, not looking back and nearly crushing Lire, who was next in line.

Totally aced it.

* * *

_Review Replies!_

_He-Jay: Ahaha, yes! I'm alive c: Thank you very much! Glad to be back u v u  
Whaa, have you really? Thank you so much for being so diligent, it really means so much to me ; v ;  
Omg no are you kidding? I ADORE your stories. Your candle burns bright and clear, way bigger than DT!  
Thank you! ; v ;And I'm pretty sure everyone wants to win XD But hey, maybe not! C8  
I shall! Thank you for the lovely review!_

_Snowskeeper: Thanks! And yeah, that's the thing about long periods between updates, you sorta forget what happened beforehand! I even had to go back and read a few chapters myself lD  
Acho—what-  
Aw ye the pronouns.  
REVIEW REPLY REPLY  
Alrighty then ; v ;  
LOL. Not so much as I'd like/SLAPPED/No, kidding!  
And what do those have in common?  
Poor Dio! D8 /pulls Dio from falling objects and huggles him/ C8  
Ahh, true enough lD Still, I feel like its kinda strange so I definitely will cut back on that!  
Ahhh. Oh my gosh, you really did a lot of research! Thank you so much, this will help in the future! ; v ;  
What now I'm not sure what I was talking about, either, oops lD  
LOLOL. True enough ; v ;  
Alrighty!_

_MelenMelon: YESSS I AMMM! C8  
Thank you darling 8D_

_XxcrystalxX: Thank you! It's lovely to be back u v u  
Oh geeze, no way! As I said before, I fully intend to finish DT! C;  
Oh geeze, right lD Though, training will cover all those that lack screentime!  
I guess so! And no, he wouldn't be happy! So hopefully Dio doesn't find ou _

_hardcoreGSfan: Tsk, tsk, Rufus, so mean! Embrace the fangirls!  
Lol. Thanks, glad you like it!  
Thank you! Glad to be back, ad I shall do my best to update fast!_


	53. Day 28

_Happy 4__th__ of July, everyone! Or atleast the Americans. And to anyone who's American, yeah, hi, I'm Canadian, and I can hear Party In The USA blasting across the border. Might wanna turn that down a bit. _

_Either way, mmkay! So, by now, you might be wondering if I can count. Yes, I did in fact take advanced numbers (ppftt no I didn't hello math failure), and I can in fact count. Or atleast to thirty./slapped/ No no, I'm kidding.  
Okay, all jokes aside, the reason for this sudden timeskip is that I've some small complaints and one coke accident on my other draft (hello Canada day!), and most the complaints were about the fact that you guys already know the character's skills, so why should i take up chapter after chapter showcasing them?  
So, because of this, I talked it over with Sirenys and we agreed that it would be best if I just timeskipped to the last three days: one day for training scores, which is this chapter, another for the final feast, and another signalling the preparation and beginning of the Games! We're even closer to the actual Games now, yay!_

* * *

Chapter Fifty-One: Day 28

They had all been called down to a room down in the west hall, where plush red sofas lay facing a wide-screen TV. Exchanging glances of dread as they all took a seat in their respected districts, Lucas turned on the TV and the broadcast began almost immediately after.

"Good morning Serdin citizens!" the annoucer was saying. "And what a lovely day, no? As we draw closer to the upcoming Chase Games, there is much more to be covered by the press, and today, TV Gaikoz brings you the latest scoop: the tributes' training scores! So sit back and prepare to find out who you'll be rooting for this lovely year!"

Dio rolled his eyes, snorting.

"And we begin with District One, bringing us all the way down to Twelve!" the announcer shuffled some cue cards and, as all the tributes and mentors leaned in, began reading.

"Right. First up, Elesis Sieghart from District One!"

Elesis moaned.

"This ferocious young lady has quite the grace wielding the deadly, dual-blading Ssanggeom and earning a..."

Elesis held her breath as a large, glowing blue _5 _flashed on the screen.

"Five! Quite impressive, if I do say so myself!"

Elesis leaned back onto the couch, one arm over her eyes. "It's over. I blew it."

"Shhh!" Arme hushed her and the redhead glared at the violet mage, as the TV continued, unaware of interruptions.

"Next up is the gentleman from One, Ronan Eurdon! Trained well with black and white magic, this young spell knight has combined magic with swordsmanship and done quite an impressive job of it, reeling in the same as his adored fellow tribute!"

Ronan's icon was replaced with the same five Elesis had gotten, and the female glared at him, making Ronan smile nervously and turn his attention back to the screen.

"And now, to District Two! First up, Arme Glenstid, the violet mage with a violent streak, as she demonstrated in the training arena, destroying everything in sight—and nearly the room too—with her meterors! She gets a six!

Arme shot a small, smug look around as she sat back and crossed her legs.

"After Arme comes the thief, Lass Isolet," the announcer said with noticeably less vigour. "He gets a three!"

Lass, who bad been sitting quietly, just looked away. Arme, who was still caught up in her own success, failed to notice until a moment too late, when Lass got up and promptly walked out the door, shutting it with a loud bang behind him.

The room, now very quiet, slowly turned back to watching the scores.

"And up next is the heartthrob of many Serdin girls out there, mister Zeke Sieghart! This man is as skilled as he is good looking, using the Soluna, a legendary sword, as his very own weapon! Sieghart, as he likes to be called, reels in a seven!"

Elesis and Arme gasped as Sieghart smirked and winked at all of them, nodding.

"His fellow tribute, Kieran Roarke, the shady necromancer that controls the dead,"

Sieghart nudged Kieran. "He called you shady." The Prime Knight cracked up laughing.

The necromancer flushed. "Shut up. It's just the hood."

"Then take it off!"

"Don't touch my head!"

The two fighting males stopped as the rest of the tributes glared at them, all with fingers on their lips.

"He gets an impressive five!"  
"Not bad for a shady necromancer," Sieghart whispered.

Kieran's only response was to give him a shove in the ribs. Sieghart flailed about as he fell down, and, into Lire's lap.

The female elf shrieked as Rufus rolled his eyes and shushed them, pushing Sieghart off.

The gladiator rolled facefirst onto the ground, as everyone around them burst out laughing, thankful for just a bit of humour relief from the stress.

"And next, Ryan Woodsguard!"

Lire gasped, then covered her mouth. "Oh no! What did I get?"

"A five," Ryan answered idly, eyes fixated on the screen.

"The young and upcoming druid gets a five as well!"

"Could be worse," the male elf muttered, remembering Lass with a wince.

"Now, for the tribute we've all been waiting for..."

"Says who?" asked Sieghart innocently, earning giggles.

"Zero Zephyrum, from District Five!" The announcer took a moment to clap. "This masked, mysterious tribute dragging behind an actual, living sword has quite the impressive skillset, earning one of the highest scores in total! Zero, from District Five, gets an eight!"

Everyone gasped and turned to stare at Zero, who sat on the cough, staring blankly back at them.

"What?"

"Dude, your _score." _Jin exaggerated the last word, dragging it out slowly.

Zero nodded. "It is my score."

"I—nevermind." Everyone turned back to the TV, where Mari's score was being announced.

"And Mari Ming Onette, the lady of District Five, with her beautiful but chilling Soul Takers and ice elemental attacks, earns a six with her graceful and deadly skills!"

Mari sighed in relief and closed her eyes, relaxing for just a moment.

"And now, the most awaited district of them all, District Six!"

Dio rolled his eyes and Ley yawned. Both demons looked unamused, unconcerned for their scores.

"And both demons, Ley von Crimson River, the elegant and sexy princess of the magnificent Crimson River clan, as well as Dio Burning Canyon, the strong, handsome, young, and powerful chief of the leading demon tribe, have both earned amazing, top of the charts scores, with both standing at nine, the highest of all the tributes this year!" The announcer paused as programmed fireworks exploded across the screen, and Dio and Ley looked very smug indeed.

"Demon favourism," Rufus muttered darkly, from his position leaned against the wall, since Theo and Shera had taken up residence on the District Eight sofa.

"Moving on, District Seven! You know what they say, this district is all about talent, talent, and more talent! And now, for the lovely Amy of District Seven, with her bubbly personality and amazing looks, capturing fans all across the nation with her gentle but strong fighting spirit! This gorgeus idol has gained a four on the scale!"

Amy, who was blushing pink, covered her mouth and looked down. Jin gently lowered her hands and gripped them tight in his, looking at his with tenderness in his eyes.

"It's not that bad," he said softly. "No matter what they say, you're nothing but perfect in my eyes."

Amy flushed a darker shade and fluttered her eyelashes, staring lovingly back at Jin.

"Break it up, break it up, they're continuing!" Elesis interrupted and got up to pry the two apart, sighing way too loudly.

"And now, for Jin Kaien, the crimson Silver fighter, with a score of seven, from his unique burning stage and impressive hand to hand combat skills!"

Amy gasped and congratulated her boyfriend, squealing happily.

The other tributes covered their ears and turned back to the TV, anxious to finish now that they were already halfway.

"Moving onto the four person district, the special case,"

All the District Eight tributes took a moment to groan in unison as the others expressed their sorrows.

"Now, first up, Rufus Wilde, the bounty hunter with attitude!"

Rufus wanted to disappear.

"This feisty gunsman earns a feisty five!"

Rufus growled and stomped out.

"Attitude!" Sieghart called after the bounty hunter's disappearing figure, earning roaring laughter from the other tributes.

"Now, next up, Eshe Juriore!"

Eshe promptly got up and left in a hurry, running out the door a second before her score was announced.

"A three! Not very impressive, but hey, we've seen worse! Moving on!"

Everyone took a moment to stare at the closed doors and then at Theo and Shera.

"Now for the lovebirds, Theo Drane and Shera Glaciem!"

Shera blushed slightly as she moved closer to Theo, her head on his shoulder."Wonder what we'll get?"

"Theo Drane, the blade-gun wielder earns a five, and Shera Glaciem, with her Korinotsurugi, as icy as beautiful, follows in her partner's footsteps—true love, huh?-with yet another five!"

The mentioned two smiled happily and cuddled closer, lost in their own world with their foreheads touching.

Ryan pretended to gag as everyone else adverted their eyes and began watching again.

"We're coming to an end, folks! With District Nine tribute Asin, the legendary Blue Fox of the Silver Knights, scoring a five with his powerful kicks and fast dodges, wonderful on the battlefield and nothing more than a flash as he moves around!

"And after, hailing from the same Knights, training only the best fighters since time began! Sion Starlight, with a four, ladies and gentlemen!"

Said knight just looked down at her hands, folded carefully in her lap.

"And now, keep seated folks, for Lime Serenity of District Ten with a seven!"

Everyone sat up and stared at Lime. _"What?" _

The Holy Knight blushed and giggled. "What can I say?"

"With her smashing hammer moves and magic healing abilities-"

"You can heal?"

"Every Holy Knight is taught to do so." Lime blinked.

"But can she heal the deadly water attacks inflicted by her fellow tribute, Raphel Santiatum Piscis, with a five?

"But there's more, citizens of Serdin! My money is on Rin of District Eleven, with a shocking eight!"

The room collectively gasped and turned to stare at the Phoenix. "You got an _eight?"_

"What did you do, kiss their feet and beg?" Lucifer snickered, but was silenced by a glare from Xion.

"Good job. I'm proud of you," the reaper told his fellow tribute.

Rin smiled and looked at him. "Thanks."

"And the fearsome Xion De'elmar gains a four for bow abilities!"

Rin squealed—Elesis covered her ears—and hugged Xion's arm, earning a passionate look from the male.

"We're drawing to an end but don't look away yet, folks! Up next is Jackie Natrain, a master of the shadows, a warrior with the dagger, and a champion with a four!"

The mentioned tribute suddenly felt very uncomfortable with everyone staring at him.

Luckily, the announcer didn't miss a heartbreak. "And last, but certainly not least, is the doomed lover Zeta el Inritum, Selena Soldes' puppy-"

Zeta nearly choked. _"Selena Soldes' puppy?" _

The blonde mentor laughed nervously. "Don't let it get to you, Zeta. Serdin—the media—it's always like that."

"I don't want to be classified as your lapdog!" the male tribute groaned.

Jackie offered him a look of sympathy that was gone two seconds later.

"With yet another four! And that's the scoop, all you eager viewers out there! The Chase Games begin in three days. Have your money and tissues prepared for heartbreak and victory!"

"And death," Ley added nonchalantly.

"And up next: Kae, fox or dog?"

The mentioned mentor blanched. Sharrif laughed.

"It all happens to us sooner or later. It'll be over soon," Giou told the male.

"I'm a fox," Kae muttered, crossing his arms.

"Sure you are," Saika soothed.

"A puppy, one could say," Brendan snickered.

Zeta and Kae both glared at him as Arme elbowed him in the ribs.

The room burst out laughing as the door swung open and Eshe dragged in Rufus and Lass, sat them down on the carpet, right in the center.

"Just in case anyone attempts to escape again," she explained, then looked around. "What's so funny?"

In response, Arme only wiped her tears and kissed the cheek of a sulking Lass.

* * *

_Review Replies~!_

_Sekushibutt: Wait what—I did, didn't I? What was your last review? D:  
NOPE ALL THE FLUFF MAN.  
Thank ; v ;_

_lLegendsl: (Are the l's in your name lowercase L's or 1's? Sorry, I just want to make sure I get it right!)  
Ah, thank you! It's lovely to be back.  
Oh geeze, I know! I was reading the wiki and I saw that information on Shadow Stinger, so it was way too good of a chance to let up!  
Oh, don't worry about the 4__th__ skills at al /laughs evilly/  
LOLOL. Thank you for shedding tears over DT, I suppose? But yes, I will keep the updates coming! ; v ;  
I quite agree. Sieg is fine/slapped/ Go Sieg!_

_Aprildragon16: Hello~! Ah, welcome to GC, then! How are you enjoying it?  
Ahh, oh my gosh, thank you so much for all the praise! ;/v/;  
Ahaha, thank you so much! I shall!_

_XxcrystalxX: Mmhmm! And we're even closer, now!  
LOLyes. Personally, I don't blame them! I love food so much, I'd marry it if I could/slapped/ Still, the book judges were mean :C Luckily, Kaistern and Stella are much better!  
Yes, yes it is! I honestly can't wait, the trailer's so epic!  
LOL. Nope, but he does get a chance to redeem himself, so that's good!  
Well, it would be pretty boring if I had to write about dummies getting replaced, right? Let's just say they have speedy dummy repair 101 or something ;D  
LOL. But if the room was destroyed, there'd be no more training sessions and boy, Serdin would be angry!_

_HardcoreGSfan: Oh yush, the fangirls. An exotic, dangerous species.  
OH YEAH. Kieran's just boss that way. XD  
That you, and here it is! ^^  
That's okay! Oh my gosh, writing class sounds awesome. I wish I had classes like that here! Do enjoy yourself, it really sounds amazin _


	54. Day 29

_Hey hey, anyone heard about the newest GC character, Edel? The one swordswoman from Serdin?_

_I think she's certainly...interesting. Can't say much though, since not much is known of her yet, but I wonder who's going to be the first to write fanfiction concerning her._

* * *

Chapter Fifty-Two: Day 29

One more day. The current day had passed by all too quickly, and soon Arme found herself accompanying Lass to the mess hall, where the final feast was being prepared.

When attendants pushed open the heavily jewelled doors, Lass and Arme marched into the room, both dressed very finely indeed. All around, tributes, mentors, and waiters, all dressed in their best clothes, were wandering around, trying samples and making small talk with each other.

Elesis was already seated at the table in a tight, scarlet red gown with a sash tied from shoulder to waist, staring hungrily at the large display of meats on the table. Near her, Ronan fawned about, giving compliments to the ladies and attempting to talk to Elesis, fixing the sleeves of his indigo suit. However, the red knight ignored all his attempts and only had eyes for the food.

To her right, further away, Lire and Ryan sat chatting lightly, both holding plates with small greens and fruit, a salad they had whipped up themselves with what they had. They picked dainty at their food with small forks, Lire careful not to spill on her shining golden gown, and Ryan slightly rolling up the sleeves of his tux.

Arme sent Lass off to get some drinks, careful not to let her light pink stole slip. She sighed happily as she watched Lass, in all his blue glory as he silently glided across the floor fetching two cups of punch for them. He bumped into Sieghart, always with his charming white smile, standing next to Kieran, who fidgeted nervously and attempted to fix his tie. The three exchanged words and jokes, then Lass headed back with a small, content smile.

Arme took the offered drink and smiled prettily. "How were Sieghart and Kieran?"

"The usual," Lass took a sip of punch and grinned back. "So...wanna dance?" He smiled sheepishly. "Before the feast starts, I mean."

She blinked. "I thought we had a dance _after."_

"...Right." Lass looked down.

Arme giggled, and slipped her hand into his. "How about we go check out some of the appetizers instead?"

"Sounds good." Lass nodded.

They headed off and passed by Mari, in a blue gown patterned with sequins and feathers, who was holding a cup and talking to Acho, the mentor becoming the student as Mari launched into a lengthy lesson about the proper care of machines. He was saved by Sharrif, who was dressed in a revealing white-purple dress, passing by with Lucas, who had a neon green tie and grinned like an idiot. She dragged Acho away, messing up the male's hair while doing so.

Amy giggled as she flew past with Jin, dancing without a care in the world. Jin dipped her down, letting her long pink curls brush the floor, the two looking absolutely _happy._

The crowd stopped as two certain demons came in, Ley floating just slightly taller than Dio, wearing a beautiful, revealing dress that made every guy gap slightly as she smirked and flirted all around.

Meanwhile, Dio joined some of the other guys stalking around the corners, greeting Zero, who still hadn't removed his mask, and Rufus, who had a normal tux on and seemed uncomfortable without his signature guns strapped at his belt.

"Stop whining," Eshe muttered as she lurked around the tables, in a plain white gown that paled against her skin.

"Cheer up," encouraged Shera as she smiled brightly and walked around with her hand on Theo's arm, both stellar and looking like the happiest two people alive.

"Easy for you to say," Eshe muttered halfheartedly, but she smiled as Sion walked from her corner, in a pearly-white dress that almost seemed like a wedding gown. Asin stood near her in a white tuxedo with a purple tie, jumping at every little thing.

"Relax," Lime assured as she walked by, in a blue-green dress with Holy Knight symbols. "Wanna go watch the chef cooking?"

Asin nodded nervously and followed Lime, joining Rin—in an oriental-styled gown—and Xion—a black tux—as well as Raphel, who was, for some reason, holding tarot cards, all watching the amazing cook spice up the meals. Saika and Aceline stood talking with Jackie and Giou, complete with cups of punch and slight, awkward pauses. Zeta and Selena were talking sitting near the end of the table, gazing into each others' eyes. Brendan winked at the ladies and joked with the men, perfectly at home among such etiquette. Lucifer sat swinging his legs and mocking waiters as they floated by, Kae rolling his eyes and leaning back, trying some of the salmon bits. Arcana didn't seem to be present, but Michael was talking to Aali and staring in Giou's direction for help when the younger became fixated on the candy bowl nearby. Roseclere clicked about and grabbed some treats, a tiny white head bobbing around the floor.

A loud, clear bell rang across the hall as plates of freshly cooked food were laid across the tables. Tributes and mentors chatted happily as they sat down and looked at the amazing displays that were presented right before them.

"This is too good to possibly be eaten!" Amy exclaimed as she looked at the foods. Even in District Seven she'd never seen anything quite as impressive as this.

Jin, who was now eating a giant peacock leg, stared at her. "You were saying?"

Next to him, Arme laughed as she helped herself to some mashed potatoes, dripping with gravy. "If you don't eat, we'll be happy to do so for you."

Amy smiled back, her honey-brown eyes sparkling. "No way, thanks!" She took a bite of Jin's food, earning a look from the fighter.

"Jin may share his heart, Amy, but never his food," Ryan cautioned the pink dancer, an amused smile on his face.

"I like a challenge," she shot back, then picked a cherry tomato off his plate.

"Oh no Amy, his food is _mine," _Lire intercepted, and proved it by taking another tomato.

"Hey!" Ryan wailed. "I happen to like _my _tomatoes!"

"Not likely, Orange," Sieghart called as he threw a plump grape at Ryan.

Quick as a flash, Ryan snapped the tomato between his teeth, chewed, and swallowed. "Reflex," he explained to the shocked faces watching him.

After that, Lire and Ryan developed a playful game of fetch where Lire scooted her chair back further each time she tossed a tomato at Ryan and the druid caught it between his teeth. Everyone was laughing and clapping in delight as they watched Ryan catch it perfectly, never breaking the skin.

Opposite him, Dio sat with his arms crossed. "Foolish," he scoffed, rolling his eyes as he watched the games.

Sieghart glared at him. "Some people are trying to have fun."

"And why would they do that?"

"Because, believe it or not, some people actually do have a sense of humour." Sieghart was getting more and more heated by the looks of disdain Dio shot.

"But why?" Dio was insistent. "After all, we're all going to die."

Suddenly, everything went quiet, and Dio had spoken a little louder than he expected.

"What's your problem?"Sieghart stood up and slammed his palms on the table, making the silverware shake. "You think we don't know that?"

"I'm saying you're lying to yourselves about that!" Dio accepted the challenge Sieghart gave and stood up as well, knocking his chair to the ground. Beside him, Zero scooted out and silently retrieved the fallen chair.

Kieran looked very uncomfortable sitting right between the two.

"Lying about what? If I wanna die, I'm going out with a bang. Don't interrupt our party!"

"Then don't pick fights you can't win!"

"Oh, you wanna go, punk?"

Dio stepped forwards and his Rake Hand began to glow, the demon's eyes murderous. "What did you call me?"

"I called you a good for nothing, weak little thing hiding behind your mother's skirts!" Sieghart mocked.

Behind Zero, Ley slapped the table. "Good one!" she called.

For a second, hurt flickered across Dio's face, only to be replaced by full on anger. "Do you want to die?"

"Bring it!"

"Why this," Kieran whispered, as the two men practically started scrambling over his lap to get to each other.

Elesis, who was the first to act, pulled Sieghart away. "Sieg!" she snapped. "Don't. It's not worth it."

Sieghart struggled and spat at Dio.

The chieftain's Rake Hand shot out and grabbed at Sieghart's throat, the gladiator clawing at the demon's face to free himself.

Zero wrapped his arms around Dio's torso and easily lifted the male into the air, dropping him in his seat. "You weigh less than Gran," the Wanderer casually observed, as Ley laughed uncontrollably behind him.

"What—Zero!" Dio's curses rang across the hall as the Wanderer casually ignored the swearing demon and went back to eating.

"Don't cause any more trouble or we'll kick you out," Mari, sitting opposite of Zero, warned.

The two males simply scoffed and turned away, Sieg to talking to Elesis and Dio still swearing.

Lime sighed. "There's always that one event that ruins it all," the Holy Knight remarked, swirling her straw around her ice tea.

"You gonna drink that?"

Lime looked up to find Rufus eyeing her drink rather greedily.

"Have it," she pushed the glass towards the bounty hunter. "I already drank from the straw, though."

"Doesn't matter," Rufus pulled a straw out of nowhere and replaced the one in the drink, and began to sip thirstily.

As she watched the male devour the liquid, Lime spoke. "Didn't your mother teach you not to be greedy?"

"Never knew her," Rufus shrugged, "and in District Eight, greed is everything."

Unable to think of a response to that, Lime patted Rufus's arm. The bounty hunter flinched, but never pulled back.

Across the table, Asin picked at his small cubes of cheese and tofu, eyes darting across the room. This place made him nervous. Paranoia set in and he began to shake slightly, unable to control it. However, not a word escaped him, the easygoing smile still stretched across his face, far too wide He hated how he saw things differently, that his mind imprisoned him and told him what exactly to do. _Hate Jin. _He hated Jin. _Love Asin Tairin. _The old mentor was very dear to him. _Run wild. _He had spent the first ten years of his life doing so, which nothing but animals for company. Even after a few years spent with humanity, he still wasn't used to the closed spaces, the rules and laws that decided everything. Why did they exist? Why should a sentence stop a person from doing anything? Why did they have to die?

At the front of the great oak table, Rin gazed at the apparent Blue Fox of Kanavan, what they named Asin, squinting and nodding along as Xion chatted on beside her about something.

There it was.

Being a reborn goddess actually sucked, she thought. For one, she could transform. Yes, people could get too excited. Yes, she could turn into a thirty-foot tall glowing being with wings when she got excited. Natural, instinct, yep. She could just imagine telling someone that. _Hey, remember how you called me your little kitty? Well, you know how cats poof up their tails when they feel threatened? Yeah, I do that too. Except, instead of a tail, I turn into a god. We still on for that marriage in a couple of days?_

And then there were other matters. Such as being able to see death auras.

She could see it now. _Rin, District Eleven, fifteen years of age. Reborn goddess and death seer. Looking for a healthy, happy relationship. Would prefer if you were not about to die._

They were everywhere. All about the tributes' heads. Masses of black, swirling energy, Death's calling.

There was one above her head too, she knew. That's how she found out about them, checking herself in the mirror this morning.

_How's my ponytail? Oh, hey, there's that death aura again. Shoo, shoo. I have to loop my braid._

Alright, maybe she'd freaked out a little more than just _that._

So now she scanned the group, a feeling of dread closing in on her heart. Who was the Victor? There had to be one. If it was Dio, that stupid demon from earlier, screw fate, she'd kill him herself. Hopefully being a goddess meant you were allowed to break fate. If not, she could always go on strike. _Take that, Atropos! _

When she finally found the Victor, Rin gasped.

* * *

_I don't care if Rin is OOC, goddess jokes must not go unanswered/slapped/ Nono, I'm kidding. How do you guys feel about me writing the characters? Are any particularly OOC? I'm trying to fix my writing and getting characters IC for the actual Games, so any feedback would be welcome!_

_Review Replies~_

_shinedown: Well, I'm not too sure ; v ; I mostly gave tributes average scores, ranging from fours to sixes ; v ;  
Of course! I'm sorry I got upset over that. It's my fault too! But yes, lets put that behind us!_

_Aprildragon16: Ahaha, I don't know ; v ; Even if he gets a bad score, hey, he can still be good in the Games, correct? The scores don't determine actual fighting ability when one is about to die!  
So you ship LassXArme? That's great! It's a lovely shi  
Yes, I understand! Killing everyone will be very hard for me, too ;_;  
I'll try to update soon, then! The Games are starting so soon!_

_Snowskeeper: LOL. Congrats, though! C:  
LOLOL. Thank you?  
LOL. Oh geeze lD  
Oh yes, totally. It makes so much more sense that way.  
Epic...creepy guy?  
Mmkay!  
LOLWHAT. What did you expect?  
Oh yes, expect the people. But who knows, they could be blind/waves hands too/  
LOL. Well get picking, then! /shot/ /No no, don't do that, there are much better ways to waste your time/  
X3. X3 as in the face X3 or as in three times?  
LOL. No worries, Zero might not. He has others to cut in half c:  
...Speaking of which, who does actually kill Lass? I completely forgot. I should go check that lD  
True, true enough! So sometimes, simple things are the best things!  
Aw ye.  
Praise the pronouns!  
Yes, yes it would! Lets get a party started in the review section!  
Really? Maybe I'll google that sometime when I'm bored. Learning about brass is totally how I spend my free time!  
No! Don't destroy the reviews! /protects reviews/  
Yes, yes they do! Or at least video games help your online real life. Which is technically not real, but hey, it helped somewhere, sometime!  
Ohh, okay lD _

_MelenMelon: Ahh, thank you! ; v ; Yes, the Games will be fun!  
Oh geeze lD I thought of it randomly and had to add it in!  
Thank omg ; v ;_

_XxcrystalxX: LOL. No no, figure of speech! And yes, that'd be true, I'd probably do the honours myself. /slapped/  
Wait, really? Oh geeze, I guess I judge too hard! It's been a while since I've read the books!  
Ahaha, well, highest doesn't always mean you'll win u v u  
Goddess transformations, I suppose. Gotta admit, you don't see those everyday.  
There isn't really all that much to actually kill in the training session, I suppose. But hey, when the Games actually start, maybe!  
Alrighty! I'll try to update as fast as possible, then!_

_HardcoreGSfan: RUFFY NO! You can't shoot everything :c and fangirls are plenty, so there's no price, none at all!  
LOL. Yeah, poor Lass :c  
Oh geeze lD I'll fix that sooner or later! But yes, Zero in all his glory.  
Oh Rufus.  
Oh my gosh, I didn't even notice that pun!  
Oh yes! Attitude runs in the family c:  
Mmhmm! And here it is! /presents shiny chapter/  
Ahh, well, it was good when it lasted, right? And you'll see your classmates around, and it's great you got one's contacts! Have fu _


	55. Day 30

_Here it is, the final Day, and the beginning of the Chase Games!  
All the POV skips. I'm so sorry lD this won't happen again, just, there's a lot to cover!_

* * *

Chapter Fifty-Three: Day 30

Before even dawn rose, Serdin was already up and going. Normal citizens turned on the television and sat down with an everyday, expensive breakfast, while deep in the castles mentors encouraged nervous tributes, goodbyes were said, and nerves broke out a number of times.

"Don't show any weakness," Sharrif was saying, as Elesis and Ronan were helped into outfits by Paris, leading the District One beauty team. "And don't take any risks. When the Games start, grab a pack and get out of there. Only grab a weapon if nothing's in the way. Don't be reckless," the female mentor scolded, staring rather pointedly at Elesis.

The Red Knight, however, did not pick this fight. Elesis simply took a deep breath, face unchanged and emotionless.

"Good luck," was all Sharrif said as she spun around professionally and walked out, without looking back once.

Once the mentor was gone, Elesis and Ronan sat side by side, waiting to get into the elevator tubes that would lift them up to the arena. No one was really sure what to say. Deep down, all this time, ever since they'd been chosen for tribute, it was well known that everyone would die, all but one.

Who was that lucky person? Or rather, unlucky. No one came from the Chase Games unharmed. Even the Victors were scarred forever, reduced to a pitiful existence pulled on strings by Serdin and always haunted by memories. Either way, they were doomed since the slip of paper had been drawn, almost a month ago.

And now, it came down to this. Just this.

Before she knew what she was doing, Elesis reached out and grabbed Ronan's and. It was the smallest of gestures, not romantic at all, yet held so much comfort. The Spell Knight understood and did nothing except to grasp her hand tighter.

They were not friends, and certainly not lovers. Nor allies either. They would be enemies, out to kill each other after the Games started. But for now, they were simply two victims of the world, seeking only the smallest of comforts.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Lass stroked Arme's hair, letting the strands run between his fingers as Arme held him tightly, her cheeks streaked shiny with tears.

"We'll be okay," he was muttering, "we have allies, remember? We'll camp out and hide from everyone until it comes down to you, me, and Ronan. Then I'll strike a dagger into his heart, and it'll be us. We'll figure something out, Arme. I won't let you out of my sight and no way we'll be batlling. So don't worry, okay?"

"Good plan," a voice interrupted his whispers. "Betray the allies."

Lass looked up to find Brendan and Saika standing silently, watching them.

"Is that how you did it?" he asked.

Both mentors went silent, as they always did when their Games came up.

"T-that doesn't matter," Saika fumbled. "What matters right now is you staying alive."

Lass noticed how she referred to them as _you, _not _you two. _Who did she expect to die?

"Brendan and I will do everything we can to gather sponsors, but the main work is up to you. Once the bell goes, don't be foolish. Either grab what you need and get out of there, or, if everyone's heading to the supplies, run. The first bloodbath is the deadliest and most shocking." She shivered.

Brendan took over in her stead. "Don't worry about food—there's stuff to eat in the wilderness, and both of you took lessons."

Lass and Arme nodded.

"What you want to get are weapons. Equip yourself well so you can fight. Remember, it's kill or be killed here. Friendships mean nothing."

Arme bit her lip and Lass simply nodded again.

"If push comes to shove, we'll send you medicine, food, and water, but I doubt we'll have enough money for weapons, and the food won't be top quality. Don't be spoiled or picky. This is your life on the line. Go for the weapons. Arme, grab the nearest staff you can find and shield Lass. The nodachi is quite hard to find among all the swords and he might need some little daggers and such.

"Got it," Arme gave a quick, small smile that was gone in a second.

"Good luck, you two," Saika smiled warmly as Brendan approached holding four small packages.

"Hide these in your pockets," he whispered, smiling mischievously as he gave them two each.

Arme and Lass took them, and the purple mage spoke. "Isn't this...illegal?"

Brendan just chuckled. "They can't do any harm. Plus, every mentor wants to help their tributes out." Brendan smiled. "They're mana potions. Go out there and wreck havoc, Arme, Chances are, The End will kill everyone before they even start running."

"Besides," Saika spoke unexpectedly, "only a fool would completely obey Serdin."

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Only a fool would disobey Serdin in the slightest!" Giou was scolding them, after Sieg suggested Kieran hide a bunch of potions under his cloak, which he was permitted to keep for reasons unknown.

"They'll find out and blow you to pieces before you even step off the circle," Giou warned. "That's illegal and Serdin keeps strict maintenance."

"Alright, alright, I was just asking," Sieghart dismissed, looking the other way. "No potions. Happy?'

Giou just sighed, looking at the two of them dressed in their tribute uniforms, Kieran with his hood over his eyes and Sieghart stretched out beside him, completely unconcerned, yawning. "You two are impossible." He paused. "Go do the impossible and win," he muttered, half hoping they didn't hear.

Sieg grinned, and flashed the famous white smile as Kieran removed his hood.

"Will do, boss!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Remember, Lire, you should get a bow if you can. Then you can snipe tributes while Ryan gets the supplies."

Lire nodded. "I'll grab a bow and run to the nearest tree and scout for Ryan."

Selena nodded. "Very good. And Ryan?"

"I have to completely trust Lire and just run blindly to the supplies table."

Selena pursed her lips. "Trust Lire, yes. Run blinded, no. Even though Lire will be watching out for you, she has to stay aware of her own surrounds too. You need to aware as well and steer clear of other tributes."

"That's what I meant."

"Speak only what you mean. This is no time for riddles," the angel replied, then stood up. Her eyes softened as she scanned the two elves before her, that she'd only known for a week and was now sending off to die.

"Good luck," she told them, then ran off to meet another important person, someone else she wasn't ready to say goodbye to.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Mari still worried.

She scarcely paid attention as Acho fluttered about and spoke broken sentences he didn't quite finish, wishing them good luck over and over again. The District Five room was quiet apart from the mentor's ramblings, with Zero standing solid at one corner and Mari in the other.

Surely Astharoth's threats couldn't mean anything, could they? He wasn't a gamemaker so he wouldn't have control over the arena and what happened in the Games.

And, she hoped, he couldn't control what happened to _her._

_~Dangerous Times~_

Ley wasn't worried. Dio and her had, naturally, forged an alliance for the beginning portion of the Games. With Dio looking out for her all she had to do was sit back and occasionally help. Plus, Duell was also helping—still convinced that she was his 'Edna', the demon had given her a small earpiece, undetectable by Serdin, not likely to fall out even as she was moving, so that he could guide her through the Games, and, ultimately, kill Dio while he slept, and become Victor.

She could almost feel the announcers, the cameras, and the glory and riches already. Oh, it felt good to be Victor.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"I love you."

"I love you!"

There were just no words as Amy and Jin embraced, the dancer sobbing and the fighter shaking his head as he held her tight and pressed kisses on her face, neck, and hand, anywhere he could reach, anywhere to show her just how _much _she meant to him.

"Whatever happens, we'll stick together," he reassured. "Don't let me out of your sight. Even if we die, let's die together."

Amy nodded. "I wish I could freeze time," she muttered, voice muffled.

Jin nodded. "Me too." He'd go through a hundred—no, a thousand—Chase Games if it meant they got another month together each time.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"I'm going to die!" Shera wailed, buried in Theo's arms.

The male held her hand tight. "No, no, you won't. I'll fight until my last breath to protect you."

The two cuddled together on the seat, so deeply, desperately in love it made Eshe sick. She watched as Theo calmed and soothed all of Shera's fears, having eyes only for her.

Suddenly, Eshe felt incredibly alone.

"I'm going to die," she told the bounty hunter beside her.

Rufus nodded absentmindedly. "That's lovely." His eyes searched down the halls for the District Ten tribute room.

Eshe sighed. Right. Love was in the air. Even Rufus had Lime, a girl from District Ten who he met only last night, at the feast.

She was going to die in thirty days, and even so she hadn't managed to find one person to share affection with.

"I have serious skill," she muttered.

_~Dangerous Times~_

Kae talked on and on about the kinds of berries they could and could not eat.

"Be careful," the fox mentor warned. "Sometimes they'll place poison in the packs just to trick you. To them, it's funny and clever, but to you, it's lethal. No matter how hungry you are, always check before eating."

_~Dangerous Times~_

Aalis strummed his guitar as Lime and Raphel were escorted into the elevators.

"Do you think they'll scream as they bleed?" he asked Aceline, and only received a sigh in response.

"You look worried, Aceline," the boy shot the female a look. "Don't you want them to die quickly? I don't. I want them to suffer. It's always fun making a grown man piss himself."

Aceline didn't even respond this time, and the boy continued talking.

"Maybe the grass will be stained with blood again. It's such a lovely colour, and it really does help the trees grow. Although the odour isn't nice, I'd hate to be part of the cleanup crew," the mentor wrinkled his dainty little nose. "What are you worried about?"

Aceline, used to Aalis's rambles, ignored his earlier speech. "Lime is too slow."

"Maybe if you cut off her legs, she'll be even slower."

"Aalis..."

He began to play a tune. "That's not what you meant?"

"What I'm saying, is that she'll probably be the first to die. That hammer slows her down greatly and even the Holy Knights can't revive the dead."

"Tributes aren't bloodthirsty monsters," Aalis replied, "she'll be just fine. I hope she screams. It's music."

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Rin, listen." Michael drew the girl aside. "I need to speak with you about something."

"Take your time! With luck I'll miss the Games."

Michael just stared at her. "When the Games starts, I want you to find a fan to channel your power right away."

"Possess a human? I'm up with that."

"The _object. _Take this seriously."

"I do believe I deserve to joke around before I die." _Lady Rin, Queen of Sass._

"As I was saying," he ignored her altogether, "find a fan to channel your power."

"No food or water?" Rin raised an eyebrow.

"No. You won't need it." Michael assured.

"Listen buster, just because I have a goddess somewhat in my body doesn't mean I am one myself. I enjoy food just as much as the next starving District child. Don't even _try _to keep me from pudding. I'll cut you!" the phoenix warned.

Michael sighed deeply and rubbed his brow. "That's not it. You won't need it because you'll be the Victor."

"Say what?"

"You'll kill everyone while the shock of the Games is still settling in. No one will see it coming and everyone's defenceless, so it'll be completely easy."

Rin just stared at him. "You want me to preform mass murder?"

Michael pursed his lips. "I do not approve, but Serdin wants a special show this year. And what Serdin wants, Serdin gets."

_~Dangerous Times~_

They were escorted into elevators—or, rather, pushed—and the clear glass doors shut firm behind him.

The closed space made him slightly nervous and he had half a mind to tap the glass to act as a distraction, but something warned against it. He didn't fancy getting blown apart the minute the Games started.

He thought of the scarves. Surely they couldn't be real. Surely something would happen to change it. Surely they couldn't predict the absolute future. Still, they had haunted him, always taunting him, telling him he would die and there was nothing he could do about it. A constant, confusing matter.

Before he could ponder it too much further, he was interrupted by an announcement.

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Attention, attention all tributes!" A voice, way too high-pitched and happy for such a day, screeched through the loudspeaker connected to all the rooms. "Happy Chase Games to you all! However, before we start, there is a last-moment announcement I must give, please listen carefully!" There was a giggle. "There has been a new law made by the gamemakers, one to make the Games much more exciting this year!"

There was a pause, and everyone—tributes, mentors, and even the beauty team—seemed surprised.

"The new law is that no skills are to be used in the arena! Let's make this year's Chase Games one to be remembered! Tributes, you're going to go down as legends in the history of the Chase Games, and as for the Victors..." a giggle. "The honours will be out of control! Happy Chase Games, and good luck to all you new tributes paving a new generation of Games!"

And then, there was short buzz, and silence as everyone took a moment to realize what that meant.

"10!"

The countdown began, while most of the tributes were still in shock.

_~Dangerous Times~_

_She couldn't heal._

All that planning, days of stressing and practice, the mana potions that felt all too heavy in her pockets, they all meant nothing. What would they do now? Arme couldn't even see Lass, and she wondered if she was supposed to be planning another plan, or if the thief was already thinking. They had to wrok together, but she couldn't always depend on Lass for everything.

But the countdown was all too fast and her mind all too slow, and soon all Arme felt was increasing panic.

"9!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

Elesis felt the disk below her feet shift and slowly begin to rise, the speed designed for panic and doubt. However, the Ruby Knight's mind was set, her mouth a hard line as the elevator began to move.

Elesis knew she had to win this. Losing was not an option. She had to go home. She couldn't die. She had a team to order, a district to lead, a brother to care for. This was for District One, this was for the Ruby Knights, this was for Elsword, and this was for her honour. A knight never broke a promise.

"8!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

_He couldn't do anything. Nothing at all. _She assured herself.

_Could he?_

"7!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

_Kill or be killed. _

That was everything he knew since birth. His natural instincts were to fight, to shoot if anyone came too close.

The Games were no different. He'd killed before.

Rufus shifted. This was nothing more than another bounty hunt, he told himself, except with a larger list of people.

But with more kills came greater rewards.

He was a master bounty hunter, after all.

"6!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

_Did God Mode count as a skill? _Rin wondered as she was lifted by mechanics. Well, supposedly, it didn't. Or, supposed she didn't care because she was too busy basking in her greatness. Yeah, that was it. Better a vain Victor than dead tribute.

As soon as the Games started, she'd get this over with.

Rin only hoped it was as easy to do as said.

"5!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

At last, the arena came into view. Or at least, somewhat.

Amy felt the elevator shift and stop, yet when she gazed around she saw nothing but darkness, blurry tree shapes stretching far and wide. She realized that the other tributes were not around her—or, at least, not that she could tell. And, with a sickening sense of dread, she realized the weapon rack and supplies table were only dark, forlorn shapes she couldn't make head or tail of.

This was the arena.

"4!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

"Sorry, I'll take that," he smiled politely and nodded as he took the control stick from a tightly grasped hand.

"Excuse me," he pushed the corpse, fresh and bleeding.

"You know, there's always one thing I dislike about the Games," he chatted to the other bodies in the large, empty room: guards, servants, gamemakers, and even mentors who had been in the way.

"They lack explosion."

"3!"

_~Dangerous Times~_

_"Do exactly as I say," _Duell's voice cracked over her earpiece. _"You can cast spells without your weapon, correct?"_

Ley nodded her head just slightly.

_"Then as the Games start, teleport away from the main arena."_

Ley tilted her head towards were she presumed Dio was.

_"Forget Dio. You need to be safe."_

Ley nodded.

_"Get ready."_

"2!"

The glass doors surrounding them began to slide down, and Ley got into position, floating slightly.

_Boom._

Suddenly, she was knocked to the ground as she felt something hot and wet spatter onto her back and neck, her ears filled with a strange ringing as her vision floated back and forth and the trees seemed to dance, black shadows in the night. Disoriented, she couldn't tell where the explosion had come from, but someone was calling her name all too loudly and she groaned as her head pounded, and looked around desperately for someone—Dio? Where was Dio?

And someone else was screaming—a girl, but who?

Chaos broke out as one more scream was cut short and she got up unsteadily, swaying. Again someone was calling her name, but her body, her voice, felt too tired to respond. She took a step forward only to stumble over something—A _hand—_and was roughly pulled up, only before she felt something sharp pierce her stomach.

The Games had started.

* * *

_Review Replies~!_

_MelenMelon: Thank you! Ahh, that's good u v u_

_ShakyHades Phantomhive: Ah, okay! Thank you very much, then u v u  
LOL. /pats/ Stay strong!  
Ah yes! She uses a flintlock and rapier as her weapons, I believe. And yes, she certainly is interesting!_

_hannahbutt: LOL. Then this chapter must really be bad lD  
LOLOL. DT IS NEVER SRS.  
Aw yee all the shippings.  
LOLOLYES. Tots sexual tension. _

_XxcrystalxX: Ahh. Well, the more you know!  
Oh geeze. Yes, I didn't notice that! Thanks for catching that!  
Ahaha, well, you'll have to read and know! _

_lLegendsl: I will try!  
Ahaha, alrighty. Thank you, and I'll keep that in mind!  
LOL. Yes, yes it can. And oh Dio, here to always ruin everything.  
LOL. Oh yes, oh yes.  
And the slaughter begins!_

_hardcoreGSfan: LOL. Yes, magic grape, transform!  
Oh Rufus, don't be so sulky! You know you love it ;D _


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